Ryan was very familiar with the 'I don't have time for this, I'll duck out in ten minutes when it's polite to do so' look. The 'I'd really rather be leaving' - or maybe 'I don't want to have to leave, but such is life,' all he'd seen before, and Brendon was fantastic at hiding the fact that he identified at least a little bit with all three, but not enough for Ryan to overlook. Had he been a real rockstar he'd just demand Brendon's time instead of accepting the fact that he'd have to go, say he was more entitled to it than whatever other obligations he had going on as a functioning human being, but Ryan was nothing if not totally out of tune with his job title. He'd lost some of the traits that made him weaker in the industry, yeah, but he wasn't quite a huge asshole yet. Mostly he was just hoping he could get Brendon's number, preferably not a fake one, so that he could take advantage of the clearly limited free time he had in the future. Really - he wasn't a hook-up guy. He wanted to know him.

Maybe vague offers based around money wasn't the best way to go about that, but Brendon seemed to accept his sense of humor (with serious overtones, because honestly, buy the whole menu if you goddamn want), so it must not be a terrible approach. [i]I mean, I’m not easy. Y’gotta, like, chauffeur me. Court me, all traditional. I have religious parents, so...[/i] Funnily enough, Ryan's first instinct was to lie, say 'me too' so it looked like they had something in common, start a superficial 'how crazy is that?' moment. He was always forgetting that people could fact check basically 70% of what he said with a quick Google search. Instead of [i]that[/i], he laughed easily, very glad that Brendon was goofier by the second. It bode well for him when someone could just dumbly joke for hours alongside him - he was past all of the intense love affair stuff. [b]"I didn't think you'd be easy,"[/b] he said, all flattery - and yet still most definitely genuine coming from Ryan. [b]"Hey, I can do all of that. And parents love me. I'm sure I have a Bible, like... somewhere in Hoarder Hell."[/b] AKA his house. Maybe not something to admit to your very attractive new pal. He supposed if Brendon traded in a 'religious parent card' he'd have to return it with something equally as personal as that, right? Unwritten social rules, whatever? Totally.

Ryan was entirely serious when he offered to buy anything Brendon ordered, but Brendon simply laughed and propped his head up in his hand over the bar, all sweet as if it was just sentiment. He'd just learned Ryan was famous (or, well, not [i]learned[/i], but realized who he was), why not jump on the opportunity to take advantage of the riches for, like, some shitty bar's mozzarella sticks? Definitely a high roller item. In any case, he looked absolutely precious even when he was presumably doubting Ryan, and Ryan stared back in obvious endearment. He nearly forgot that it was completely inappropriate to just adjust someone's hair for them, but anything to get closer suddenly seemed acceptable to him. Nevertheless he withheld the urge to brush those few rebellious strands out of Brendon's eyes, just met them with his own, in even better humor now. [i]Don’t make promises you can’t keep.[/i] Ryan copied his ridiculous nod and reflected it right back at him, as if this was undoubtedly the wisest insight anybody had ever given Ryan in his entire life. He was truly floored. 

[i]If you won’t buy me the whole bar, I don’t wanna know.[/i] Ryan actually opened his mouth, prepared to accept that challenge and show his true, ridiculous, desperate serial monogamist colors, but then he faltered, realizing that was less impressive than it was creepy. He had equal chances of Brendon loving how sadly quick he was to please, or being completely terrified of how much it might make him look as if he was obsessed with Brendon, something like that. Equal chances on such opposition: not a good thing. So Ryan didn't even try, though his intent was probably somewhat obvious. [b]"That's good advice. All the more reason we should hang out more often."[/b] There, played it safe, though he was kind of disappointed he couldn't instantly drop a fortune on some beautiful stranger tonight and make his day. Well. Yet. Maybe Brendon would change his mind. 

After he'd tested Brendon's name verbally, he was almost nervous - he was a pro at learning by ear, for obvious reasons, but he knew a subtle twist like turning the 'o' to an 'a' in Brendon's name would completely change it all. This wasn't even something impressive, probably, but Ryan wanted him to feel respected, heard, whatever. It seemed like he had a difficult name to work with - at least, he did in comparison to [i]Ryan,[/i] probably, like, the tenth most common name ever. After paying close attention, though, Brendon didn't seem to bristle or do a mini eye-roll of exasperation, so he must have done something right. [i]It can be arranged.[/i] Ryan was getting a vibe similar to that of 'I don't have time for this,' but he didn't press him. It's not like Brendon was holding a huge 'PLEASE COME HIT ON ME' sign while sitting by his lonesome; Ryan had sort of invaded his space unquestioningly. If he didn't want to talk much longer than a couple of free drinks and half-interested looks, that was his prerogative. 

Something about how Ryan had made his cheeky little secret show proposition seemed to get to Brendon, and he earned the truest smile yet, one that made Ryan smile right back in its gleaming glory. Brendon didn't just grin or whatever, his entire face, entire spirit lit up with him, and Ryan felt like he was sitting next to the sun, so eternally grateful he got to witness that, see the ever-charming way his eyes crinkled up at the corners. [i]Sounds good, too. How private are we talking?[/i] Ryan had totally moved past what he said, now all he could focus on was what Brendon's real smile looked like, and he had to take a moment to recalibrate. [b]"Just you and me, unless that poses an issue for you?"[/b] He was still sort of laughing, stuck in a grey area between banter and flirting. That seemed to be both of their forté, though. Ryan had honestly lucked out. 

He needed to know more, though, so he pressed about Brendon's career, truly curious as to what someone like him [i]couldn't[/i] be able to accomplish. When he asked, though, Brendon's demeanor shifted, barely noticeable. Ryan became more serious, relaxing his body language and meeting his gaze more carefully. [i]I’m a stylist.[/i] Ryan nodded slowly, thinking how he needed one of those [i]bad[/i], look at his fucking hair. [i]I make people look pretty, and, as you can see from my example- me- I do an alright fuckin’ job.[/i] Ryan smiled mostly because it seemed like the right thing to do, but a follow-up was on the tip of his tongue; [i]what did you [/i]want[i] to be?[/i] He was clearly a sort of lost soul, and Ryan was something of a collector. [b]"'All right' is an understatement,"[/b] he returned, in a very self-assured tone, completely earnest. After a pause he shrugged a shoulder, nonchalant. [b]"I need you. Look at me. I don't know how to dress myself or anything. I've had this same jacket since I was seventeen."[/b]