[i]Yeah, I get enough of that from your entourage.[/i] Ryan's initial thought was [i]what[/i] entourage, and then he remembered, yeah, he totally had an entourage. A band that grinned teasingly from the sidelines at the way he treated Brendon, a label that scolded him for hiring someone on without consulting them first (and then being totally unprofessional with the hire), a whole fanclub that totally didn't know how to react to Brendon. Ryan considered putting out a PSA - hey, everyone, we [i]like[/i] Brendon, please don't scare off my probable soulmate. He could dream. Said dream became less distant, more lifelike and touchable, every time Brendon looked up from the shopping haul, something fond in his expression. Weird that millions of people dreamt of Ryan when he only had one person in his sights. [i]I know exactly what you’d do. You’d set out to flirt with some other poor, blindsided gay man, at a shitty bar downtown, but end up hiring him, much to his disappointment.[/i] Disappointment? An argument was on the tip of Ryan's tongue, that he hadn't been looking for anything at first but Brendon was just that tantalizing, but that last note had him frozen up. He supposed he didn't have total doubts that they were on the same page, but they were still there, and that cleared things up a little.

[i]Of course, he wouldn’t be as good as me.[/i] Ryan snapped back into focus with him, grinning knowingly. [i]I saved your career, Ry. Never forget it.[/i] [b]"No, you're right. I look at old photos of me and wonder how an album ever sold. God bless."[/b] Ryan was laughing behind his words, though, clearly actually grateful for the assisted evolution. [i]You’ve surpassed me already.[/i] Ryan shrugged like it was nothing, blinking all bashful, and decided to stop parroting there because Brendon seemed otherwise occupied anyway. Maybe he was a little too forward with that 'impossible' comment, because Brendon immediately looked down, flushed despite his efforts to hide it. Ryan smiled to himself, a little proud of that although a line had been overstepped, and waited it out. [i]First of all, is that really all that gets brought up in your interviews these days? Second, man, I need someone to send me those fuckin’ photos so I can make fun of you.[/i] [b]"[i]Wow,[/i]"[/b] Ryan cut in briefly, shaking his head. [i]Love ya. Please don’t take my Gucci away.[/i] [b]"Yeah, they're running out of content and relying completely on Instagram fan account photos. Sad. But you better watch it. I have purchase receipts for all of that."[/b]

[i]Thanks for the heads up.[/i] Most people just got ahead of the crowd and privated their social media when they seemed to be getting too cozy with Ryan, in the past. Brendon was not one of those people. Ryan felt a little bad about it all, but his tendency to comment on every photo or Tweet or post otherwise with some string of loving emojis and fond messages seemed to lead a loyal crowd of similarly affectionate responses - he led by example. So. Not all bad. [i]That’s better, thanks.[/i] Faux pas appropriately fixed, Ryan moved on. [i]I’m your stylist, not your therapist. Don’t hold y’goddamn breath.[/i] [b]"Those titles don't go hand in hand? Damn it. Why are you even here?"[/b] Ryan was grinning - hadn't they sort of covered that? [i]Oh, fuck off.[/i] Ryan laughed, decided to drop the whole 'sugar uncle' debacle before Brendon was the one in need of therapy. 

[i]Sure, baby, just say the word.[/i] Ryan clammed up. He was comfortable with banter up to a point. What was the word? It'd been a few months of straight professionalism-ish, maybe now was when he could actualize the subtext. [i]S’only fuckin’ fair.[/i] Without thinking Ryan went to feel the jacket, and after a moment Brendon's hand brought his up to the inside of his collar. It wasn't like he was shocked by the contact, in fact he was comfortable enough with Brendon where it felt normal, but. There was something else he couldn't quite pinpoint. Ryan complied hesitantly, tracing the collar for a moment, knuckles brushing skin and his hoodie, before Brendon was stepping away and Ryan exhaled gently. He watched Brendon in the mirror for a while, his smile dumbly gone, too distracted to revive it. And then, at a loss for anything else to say, his stupid mouth betrayed him. He deliberately looked away while Brendon turned, slow.

[i]What?[/i] Ryan had to suck in a breath of courage before continuing, oddly reassured by Brendon's amusement/incredulousness. Surprise, surprise, Ryan was ridiculous. Really, was anything new to him at this point? [i]Oh yeah? Is that a testament to me?[/i] [b]"Yeah! You're something special, really."[/b] Only marginally less embarrassed now, Ryan was laughing, shoving his hands in his pockets reservedly. [i]You do, do you? I didn’t- I didn’t realise you paid so much attention, I gotta say.[/i] Ryan watched him bite his lip, his hand run through his hair, and truthfully it should have the opposite effect, but his confidence was heightened somewhat. [b]"Well, only to you. Why else do you think I always walk a little behind you? Honestly, Brendon, I'm obvious."[/b] Ryan watched him lift a pair of jeans and almost, almost spluttered, beyond amused. [i]So, uh, these are gonna- accentuate?[/i] [b]"I guess we'll see. You know, in all my wildest fantasies, I never imagined I'd be putting you in [i]more[/i] clothes."[/b]