[i]I can tell that was a sore spot for you, I’m sorry. Not something you want to be discussing with a [/i]potential[i] roommate, I’m sure.[/i] Ryan paused and regard him more carefully, wondering exactly how transparent he must be. Well... this was his dad, they were talking about. Ryan couldn't conceal the hopelessness of that situation no matter how hard he tried. Given any other circumstance, he might be all right. For Brendon's sake, mostly, and maybe a little bit to defend his own pride, Ryan quickly replied, waving a dismissive hand just above the table. [b]"No, it's fine,"[/b] he said, perhaps too strongly, just bordering on argumentative, then looked slightly embarrassed. All right, maybe a [i]lot[/i] of it was about defending his own pride, then. Ryan tried again, going for a softer tone, splaying his hand against the wood of the table in an effort to ground both of them, [b]"It's okay. Also, you're less 'potential' and more 'surefire' by the second, trust me."[/b] That was proven in the way he smiled almost comfortingly at Brendon right after - he didn't bother with that kind of thing much anymore, didn't have the energy. Somehow, Brendon, like, deserved it, or something. His effect was hard to explain.

Ryan was catching on that Brendon kind of reflected his moods, but the downside to that was that Ryan liked to see him [i]happy[/i], and it was hard to coax that from himself. He watched, awed, while Brendon turned sheepish, timid when confronted by Ryan addressing his behavior. Apparently he was about as self aware as he seemed to be: not at all. It was precious. [i]I- It does happen with some people.[/i] He looked so fucking [i]genuine[/i] while spouting the habits of God that Ryan just tilted his head in fascination, less like Brendon was an oddity to be observed and more like he was wonderful and needed closer inspection. Really, both were true, but more the latter. Ryan honestly was considering just closing up the roommate search for business here; Brendon was bizarre, vague, and he still didn't know much about the guy at all, but for one thing he was desperate. For another, Brendon was [i]this,[/i] so otherworldly and sweet and charming that Ryan didn't really give a fuck whether he was going to loot the place and run or not. If he was a murderer, all the better. He was smart for it, 'cause cute murderers always get away with it. 

Anyway. Ryan probably would've preferred Brendon confessing [i]that[/i] to thinking that maybe he would discriminate against something completely out of Ryan's control, something he was so used to being met with prejudice for that he was prepared to drop everything he'd previously liked about Brendon. Which sucked, but. Ryan was kind of used to disappointment, and this would probably pass in a couple hours. But Brendon just seemed, like... scared, shocked, or something, as if this had never happened to him, like he didn't even know what anything Ryan was saying [i]meant[/i]. What was he, fucking Amish? Ryan had him pegged for pretty religious, not super life-consuming diehard religious. This was worse. But he couldn't be hateful, Ryan realized unfortunately midway through all of his accusations: Brendon looked so hurt that it must not have even occurred to him that any of this was bad in the first place. He'd been genuinely curious, Ryan just wasn't used to that.

In fact, Brendon was weirdly innocent in a way Ryan had no faint clue how to navigate, and after his little aggressive rant, he instantly felt awful. In case what he was seeing was wrong and his initial impulsive, self-defensive reaction had been right, though, Ryan stood his ground, staring up at Brendon as he stood and awaiting his response with carefully blank features. After a pause - [i]Fruity?[/i] Ryan smirked cynically, wondering how he was going to survive in this city if he did end up staying. [i]Listen, Ryan, I think you...[/i] Ryan's eyebrows were raised daringly, because as fucking horrible as he felt about it, like hell was he going to show that on his face. Everyone's a critic. Brendon's voice changed, though, and Ryan cracked a little, losing the challenge in his expression. [i]I was just [/i]asking. [i]Let me respond before you jump to conclusions. I’m not sure anymore I’m welcome, so if you want to show me the door.[/i]

Ryan stared at him for a few moments longer, still mean as ever, before his hackles dropped and he blinked at the floor, shaking his head. [b]"Shit,"[/b] he mumbled after a second, heart sinking lower. The one cool guy he'd ever met recently and he fucked it up that fast. Brendon seemed the forgiving type, though, so Ryan ignored his instinct to just let it go, give up what he'd already messed with too much. He looked back up, meeting Brendon's gaze. [b]"You're right. I'm sorry- sit back down, please, I'm really sorry."[/b] He gestured to Brendon's chair pleadingly, then rubbed his eyes tiredly. [b]" I'm sorry, I'm really used to people being assholes. I didn't want to..."[/b] Ryan paused, realising he was talking a little much for comfort. He studied Brendon for a moment before continuing, honest. [b]"I didn't want to let you hurt me first. But you're a good guy. I shouldn't have jumped the gun like that."[/b] 

Ryan pursed his lips for a beat then stood, placing a hand on Brendon's upper arm fleetingly, apologetically, before withdrawing and turning to the connected kitchen. Weird - that good-feeling, 'beautiful boy in my apartment' vibe had disappeared. Suppose that kind of disappears when you yell at said beautiful boy for doing absolutely nothing wrong, or when you blow your own mood to smithereens. [b]"I may be broke, but I still have the stuff to make pretty awesome coffee. I'm making you some."[/b] It wasn't even a question. Ryan started brewing a pot, then stood between the kitchen and the table he'd been at, shoving his hands in his pockets almost awkwardly. It was silent for a moment, then he cleared his throat. [b]"So you're [i]not[/i] gay? Wow. Usually I'm the expert on that."[/b]