[i]But this is not that dream[/i] 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 [i]rebound,[/i] 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. [i]Thank you, sweetheart.[/i] 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. [i]What’s with the blanket? Can’t get all shy on me now.[/i] ...so maybe shyness was a part of it. Ryan cringed inwardly, mood shifting fast. [b]"I'm [i]cold,[/i]"[/b] 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]I’m sure you’ll survive, somehow.[/i] Ryan's laugh was under his breath, hidden in the same suppressed smile he'd been maintaining ever since he was called 'sweetheart.'

[i]Does fucking your supposed arch nemesis while you’re still technically with your girlfriend count as a good deed?[/i] Ryan glanced back at him critically, noting the readjustment and unable to control the way his gaze momentarily swept over Brendon, considering. [b]"Whoa,"[/b] he returned in an affronted tone, arching an eyebrow. [b]"So you didn't enjoy it?"[/b] 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. [b]"But no, probably not."[/b]

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 [i]because[/i] 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. [i]Whose fault is that, huh? Like, [/i]jesus, [i]baby. You really had been thinking ‘bout that for a while.[/i] 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]I’ve solved the mystery of Keltie staying with you, anyway.[/i] 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. [b]"I love when you call me that,"[/b] he said finally, probably too open, shaking his head almost disbelievingly. [b]"Anyway."[/b] 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. [b]"You're probably wrong. I think she was definitely seeing other people, so clearly I wasn't doing enough."[/b] 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. [b]"You think anyone would notice if we just never left this hotel room? I kinda prefer it here."[/b] 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.