So, though he was arguably in the wrong, Brendon had a few advantages here. First of all, he [i]knew[/i] just how attracted Ryan was to him- he’d known that even before that fated night in Seattle, when Ryan had kissed him with a passionate fervour, spitting insults at him between kisses but coming back for more after each offence nonetheless. Now, when their mutual magnetism was undeniable, it was much easier to just slouch deliberately back, push his hips forward, loll his head to one side and look at Ryan from under his eyelashes, not even trying to seem like he was innocent. He could meet Ryan’s eyes and trap his bottom lip between his teeth and the flash of uncertainty and the twitch of his fingers told him everything that he needed to know. Brendon had the upper hand- in his mind, give it another half an hour, and he’d get his ‘reward’ of sorts after the difficult weeks of turning Ryan down. Which was funny, because prior to that, Brendon had been the insatiable one- not just sexually, but he seemed to have a constant thirst for attention and eventually, affection, secretly enjoying just being held in Ryan’s arms just as much as he enjoyed. Being held against a wall or down onto a bed. Yeah, though they were becoming closer and more open, it would take a while for him to be able to admit that.

And that gentleness was the furthest thing from Brendon’s mind right then. He hadn’t even touched Ryan in so long and he was driving him crazy- he was so [i]hot,[/i] Brendon want to attach his mouth to the junction of his neck and shoulder and move down, all the way to his hipbones, drive him a little crazy. His head was clouded with less than innocuous scenarios and he was both dumbfounded and frustrated that Ryan was wasting time by pretending that he wasn’t up for it. Though- the look on Ryan’s face. Maybe he was serious. Though Brendon had proposed how they spend the rest of their day already, Ryan seemed dead set on watching some dumbass film on Netflix, and though at first Brendon thought he was just joking, of course he was, why would he pass up this after so long, he’d seemed so desperate waiting outside Brendon’s tour bus like a loyal puppy, it appeared after a few moments that Ryan wasn’t kidding. He wanted an apology, and though Brendon wasn’t dumb enough to think that if he apologised all would be forgiven and they’d be comfortably locking the door behind them in one of their hotel rooms pretty soon, it was, he decided, worth the humiliation of apologising. So he swallowed his pride- and, while he was trying to think of what to say, he actually thought about what he had done. How he was currently treating and regarding Ryan. Like he was desperate, just a convenience to Brendon, when- that wasn’t true.

Brendon [i]liked[/i] him, he really did. More than he cared to admit, or rather, more than he was able to admit. Once he had thought about this he settled a little, shifted on his feet nervously as Ryan held him close by his belt loops. He daren’t look him in the eye, especially after such a promise- if he was lucky and sincere enough, Ryan had mentioned something along the lines of fucking him senseless, so. What did he have to lose? Brendon cleared his throat one last time before stuttering out an apology, that, though a little bashful, was geniune. He didn’t want to do anything like that again. He had realised it was childish and entitled and the solution wasn’t even that far-fetched; they just had to [i]talk[/i] to eachother, like they were doing now. Brendon’s voice was sullen (as his ego still suffered some bruising) but earnest, and once he’d finished, he looked up at Ryan hopefully, eyes lingering on his parted lips. There was a moment where Brendon held his breath, eyelashes fluttering as Ryan drew his long fingers through his hair, not quite letting himself off the hook enough to smile.

And he was right to do so. [i]You really[/i] thought. Confused, Brendon refocused his vision and found himself staring at his smile, that grin that told him everything he needed to know. He’d just been [i]played[/i] and [i]outed[/i] for just how much he was willing to sacrifice (e.g. his pride) to get dicked down. And it wasn’t even going to pay off. Brendon drew back, offended. [b]”What?”[/b] He demanded, incredulous, tugging his hand backwards in a vain attempt to try and escape his grasp when Ryan wrapped his fingers around his wrist. [b]”But- I wanna suck your[i]dick,”[/i][/b] He complained, trailing along behind him like an infant having a temper tantrum. This was so unfair. [i]You’re adorable.[/i] [b]”You’re a lying bastard.”[/b] [i]But I’m in charge.[/i] Suppose he couldn’t argue much there. As bratty as Brendon tended to be sometimes, Ryan was in charge in more ways than one. Unfortunately. [i]How about[/i] Fight Club? [i]Doesnt do the book justice, if you ask me.[/i] Brendon glared at the back of his head as he was pulled along. [b]”I haven’t fucking read the book, anyway, shithead,”[/b] He muttered, though stopped trying to resist as he was pulled through the hotel doors and into the lobby.

Brendon pulled his wrist free finally and stood with his arms folded like some kind of tiny, angry puppy, too small and precious to be taken seriously. Still- when Ryan beckoned him to the elevator, Brendon followed. Of course he did. He was holding onto hope that he’d be able to seduce Ryan and this whole shitshow would be worth it, finally. They could watch fight club afterwards, or something. No rush. Stepping in front of Ryan, Brendon pressed the call button on the elevator and waited in silence until the doors opened. He stepped onto it and turned around immediately, waiting for Ryan to step inside and the doors to close until he lunged forwards and tangled his fingers in Ryan’s hair, crashing into him to kiss him so hard that if he hadn’t have, like, tilted his head, he would’ve broken his nose. Kissing him lecherously for a good long few moments, Brendon pulled back only to speak, standing propped up on the tips of his toes. [b]”Please,”[/b] He murmured. [b]”I’ll be good for you.”[/b]