[i]Actually, you do.[/i] Ryan dragged his hand over his face. This was who he chose to run to in the midst of a barely quarter-life crisis? [i]But you know what, I’ll let you off. I’m gonna assume it was because you were drunk and therefore not at top performance. If you catch my meaning.[/i] Ryan rolled his eyes and faced him, smirking, reserved in comparison to Brendon's real, failed to suppress laughter. [b]"Well, I'm sober [i]now,[/i] so I guess we'll have to try again."[/b] He raised his eyebrows challengingly, reaching out to playfully bat some of Brendon's hair out of place. He defended himself regardless, and it seemed to work - he laughed outright, softly, at Brendon's immediate cringe. [i]I can’t argue with that. Oh, fuck, I’ll have to walk like a dumbass for days.[/i] Ryan cracked up more, an image already in his head. [i]Will people be able to tell? I can never- tell if they can.[/i] [b]"I'm sure you'll be okay. On the bright side, when I'm sober, I remember the whole 'aftercare' part. I'm [i]nice.[/i]"[/b] He tilted his head at Brendon, grinning. 

For a moment Brendon met his gaze more seriously than Ryan anticipated, and he returned it a little dazedly until Brendon was laughing, fingers finding their way fondly into his hair. Ryan relaxed, oddly comfortable just maintaining the eye contact, searching the coffee-colored depths he'd never thought were all that special until now. There was a particular way his eyes crinkled up with his smile that he [i]had[/i] noted before, but in this moment it was sweet, endearing. [i]I should hope not.[/i] And he really wasn't lying when he said it - he would be thinking about Brendon constantly. He'd done it a lot before - occupying spaces of time where nothing else was on his mind by coming up with new ways to mess with him, or picking on comments he made offhandedly, finding the strangest ways to start a fight just because it made him feel less small, whatever. Now he didn't have the slightest inclination to do that... but he supposed they both flipped a switch pretty fast anyway. One wrong comment here and he'd be storming out or Brendon would despite this being his room in the first place. 

And maybe there was another way to flip that switch - being too direct when they were in a very vulnerable position. Brendon laughed incredulously at his vague question and Ryan tensed up, preparing to ignore how comfortable he was and storm out or something, snap back at him if he got any shit for being too sensitive. It was brief, though, because Brendon was moving over him, catching his lip easily, and Ryan relaxed a little, still on edge just in case. [i]I dunno, how much time we got before took service gets here?[/i] Ryan rolled his eyes - good question, they needed something to distract them from being more and more stupid anyway - but clarified his meaning rather than backing down. Which would probably have been the wise thing to do. This conversation could have waited until they weren't peacefully together, wrapped around each other as if they'd been like this forever rather than enemies turned, at least for a night, to lovers.

Brendon shifted off and Ryan watched him, feeling far too exposed, pursing his lips when Brendon prodded him in the side. [i]Yeah, me neither, but- I don’t know, I’m not sure, I’ve not had much time to think.[/i] Glad they were on the same page. Brendon's gaze swept over him and he had the sense to be self-conscious until they were making eye contact, and Ryan willed him to magically have the words to make all of this okay, reassure him that maybe this could stay as perfect as it seemed on the surface. [i]I thought this...[/i] Ryan followed the sweep of his hand, uncertain. [i]...would be all that we wanted.[/i] Oh. He would've cringed if he wasn't so aware of Brendon's attention on him. As it were Ryan stayed still, blinking at him for a moment before turning his gaze to the ceiling. All that we wanted? Was Brendon saying 'we' for Ryan's sake or for his own? He could risk saying that there could be more, risk his own fragile pride, or just let it be, live a lie for a while until he inevitably could settle for less more easily. 

He'd been silent for too long, Ryan knew, so he steeled himself to say something - anything - when a few knocks sounded at the door, and Ryan kind of thanked fucking God. He sat up fast, retrieving a complimentary robe from the back of the bathroom door and pulling it on loosely before opening the room's door, greeted by the cart of their ridiculous order. A paranoid inclination from the back of his mind urged him to glance around the hall, as if someone would be waiting to catch him in the act, but the only person to be seen was an attendant delivering more orders to other rooms a few doors down. Before he could think too hard about why he was so worried, Ryan pulled the cart in and shut the door, presenting their bountious amount of carbs to Brendon in the grandest fashion possible as if he hadn't just dodged the most uncomfortable conversation of all time. [b]"Check it. I call blueberry."[/b] Ryan moved the tray onto the mattress, very considerate of Brendon's condition, and leaned over him to retrieve his coffee from the nightstand. 

He took a long drink from the paper cup, shutting his eyes, until 'all that we wanted' was no longer in his head. [b]"And I think I've found our new tour costumes, whenever we rebrand. This is absolutely a look."[/b] Ryan lifted his arms, gesturing to the robe tied loosely around his waist, hanging half-open over his chest since he'd thrown it on so carelessly. He climbed onto the bed, crossing his legs and securing his cup in his lap before going for a blueberry pancake, tearing off a bite in his hands.