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 [i]never in a million years[/i] 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 [i]perfect, passionate kiss[/i], 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 [i]lover.[/i] 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]I’m[/i] 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. [i]Whoa.[/i] Brendon picked up on his tone and grinned, tilting his head. [i]So you didn’t enjoy it?[/i] 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. [b]”Of course I [i]enjoyed[/i] it,”[/b] He reasoned, [b]”But I could give you some pointers.”[/b] A pause. [b]”Maybe next time [i]I[/i] can show [i]you.[/i].”[/b]

[i]But no, probably not.[/i] 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]I love when you call me that.[/i] 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’. [i]Anyway.[/i] [b]”Anyway,”[/b] 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. [i]You're probably wrong. I think she was definitely seeing other people, so clearly I wasn't doing enough.[/i] 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. [b]”She’s crazy,”[/b] 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. [i]You think anyone would notice if we just never left this hotel room? I kinda prefer it here.[/i] 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. [b]”I...”[/b] Brendon curled his fingers around Ryan’s wrist and lifted it, tracing his thumb along the spidery veins of his hand. [b]”I wish.”[/b]