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 [i]hell[/i] 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 [i]thought[/i] 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. [i]Pointers? Really?[/i] Slowly, the animated smile creeped back to Brendon’s face, and he shrugged one shoulder carelessly, still playing with the creased sheets, playing uninterested. [b]”Hey, don’t worry about it, I don’t judge.”[/b] He lifted his head and finally met Ryan’s eyes. [i]In that case...[/i] Brendon lifted his eyebrows right back, mind clouding at the mere suggestion of a ‘next time’. He wondered what the circumstances would be then. [i]Next time.[/i] Brendon replied with an affirmative nod. [b]”Anytime, baby.”[/b] 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. [i]So am I.[/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 [i]Ryan.[/i] But it passed. Uneasily, he stilled.

[i]But you probably knew that.[/i] He nodded. [b]”You’re pretty, but you’re really, really dumb,”[/b] 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. [i]Brendon.[/i] Yes, baby, anything. [i]Thank you.[/i] 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. 

[i]You could've told me to fuck off at any point, you know. Endless patience.[/i] 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. [b]”Maybe I should’ve told you to fuck off.”[/b] Another gentle kiss. [b]”I’d be able to like, walk, then.”[/b] He shifted as if to demonstrate his point, wincing. [b]”You’re trouble.”[/b]