[i]You're the douche who wouldn't talk to me. We're even.[/i] Okay, okay, so Brendon would accept that what he had done was stupid and wrong, but what he couldn’t wrap his head around was that Ryan had approached him, no [i]waited[/i] for him outside the tour bus, and now that Brendon had apologised just like Ryan asked him to and he [i]meant it[/i], suddenly Ryan had the libido of a dessertspoon. On the surface, anyway. Brendon wasn’t an idiot and he knew when he was getting under Ryan’s skin- he’d known him long enough to have figured out what made him tick. And now, not just in a cruel way. Anyway, at this point Brendon had abandoned the useless concept of ego- some things he just valued more. Ryan’s approval, for example. It may have seemed like he only cared about the physical side (after all, he had been willing to dodge him for weeks just to increase his own sexual gratification next time, the epitome of selfish), but he never wanted to upset Ryan, he wanted to be forgiven and wanted things to be okay with them, because. He’d missed him. Not just... Particular parts of him. He wasn’t a [i]fuckboy[/i] (though many, likely including Ryan, would vehemently disagree).

[b]”I said I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me-“[/b] He cut himself off at the end to prevent his voice trailing off into a childish, grumbling tone, and fell silent instantaneously, allowing himself to be dragged along towards the entrance of the hotel. Ryan was pushing the door open with his back and Brendon faced him defiantly, perfecting the role of child having a tantrum and refusing to cooperate. Or, at least, cooperating, but with the least amount of enthusiasm possible. [i]I’ll read it to you sometime.[/i] Brendon raised his eyebrows and tried his utmost to look as disgusted as possible. It wasn’t hard. [b]”That’s okay, I’d rather get cholera and die.”[/b] Once they were in the lobby, Brendon pulled away to make his point- but followed Ryan anyway when he had the freedom to go off to his own room. Again, fuck dignity. This was more important. Brendon knew exactly who and what his priorities were. He stayed dutifully and suspiciously quiet and refrained until the elevator doors closed behind them, and then Brendon sprang into action, part-Whatever of trying to convince Ryan that not dicking him down was [i]not[/i] the way to go.

As expected, Ryan was surprised, but Brendon stayed persistent, batting his eyelashes at him like he was some kind of cartoon, pressing him firmly against the bars along the walls of the elevator and tilting his head, imploring him to maybe give him a chance, it’ll be worth it. [i]C’mon, Ryan, how long are you really gonna keep this up?[/i] There was a long (or a seemingly long) period of silence, of nothing, inaction, but then Ryan’s hands were around him (where they should be) and Brendon felt a gentle flutter of his heart combined with a beat of triumph. He had Ryan wrapped around one finger and he knew it, he just- had to figure out how to coax him fully into forgiveness. This seemed to be working. Brendon was leaning in to meet him in a soft kiss but Ryan had already pulled away and the elevator doors were already open. Fuck. Opportunity missed. Brendon grimaced and watched Ryan, waiting for his next move, letting his hands drop down to his sides, dejected. [i]You[/i] didn’t [i]convince me.[/i] The unsure waver of his voice told Brendon that that wasn’t entirely true, but he refrained from smirking, just smiled at him barely, sweetly. [b]”Mh-Hm.”[/b]

He then followed, his shoulders relaxed, now, his body held lax and a little more sure of himself. His eyes remained fixed on Ryan the entire time- as they walked through the hallway down to their room, as Ryan fumbled with the keycard, as he messed up his curly hair, as he walked into the room, and even as he shut the door- he remained facing Ryan and kicked the door shut, biting his lip. Ryan was trying to fix his hair in vain and Brendon was watching him affectionately, like he hung the stars in the sky. Even if, y’know. He was being annoying right now. They were more alike than people gave them credit for. [i]I’m trying to be[/i] mad [i]at you here.[/i] Brendon raised his eyebrows, standing with his arms folded across from his ex bandmate. [b]”Why, love? Seems counterproductive to me.”[/b] He cleared his throat, and tilted his head as Ryan brought his fingers up to form a cross in front of him, amused. [i]So stay five feet away at all times. Demon.[/i] As Ryan collapsed, seemingly in defeat, into the armchair, Brendon reassessed his methods. Being a little shit clearly hadn’t worked, but- then again, ‘little shit’ was a broad term. Being sweet wouldn’t work, Ryan would just want to cuddle or some shit. Brendon narrowed his eyes and then moved forwards towards him.

He dropped gracefully to his knees in front of Ryan, not smiling at all. Every moment fluid, he brought his arms up and resting both of his elbows on either one of Ryan’s knees, then rested his chin in his hands, blinking up at him as a curl of hair fell out of place and over his eyes. He sucked on his teeth and made eye contact for a second before his eyeline dropped and so did one of his arms, crossing over to the opposite leg and trailing his fingers up along Ryan’s thigh. One hand still propped up his head. [b]”Ryan,”[/b] He began, [b]”Baby. I’m a clever boy, sometimes. So- I understand your point, okay? You’re in charge, I was wrong, I deserve a slap on the wrist. So- please. Let me make it up you.” [/b] His eyes followed the path of his hand and he stopped at Ryan’s upper thigh before he unfolded his legs and shifted gracefully into poor Ryan’s lap. [b]”I’m sorry, really.”[/b]