[i]I said I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me-[/i] Ryan tossed a look over his shoulder at him wonderingly, curious to know if maybe he was, if maybe he did miss Ryan the same way Ryan missed him, if maybe Ryan did hold that importance in his life. But. Brendon was an enigma, when it came to his real emotions and not just the ones he wanted to display. He may look like an open book, but he was far from it. Instead of answering, he stayed silent, wary of the strolling patrons in the lobby, the concierge, the receptionist, everyone. As if anyone would really spare them a second glance in their ratty bus attire. [i]That’s okay, I’d rather get cholera and die.[/i] Ryan smirked, envisioning the concept of him reading to Brendon anyway, and it sounded silly but it could be sweet. Not Palahniuk, of course, he wasn't quite the epitome of romance, but poetry, quotes from less intense authors, what have you. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. [b]"It'll be [i]romantic,[/i] Brendon."[/b] He said his name too playfully, testing their limits.

When they kissed, for a second, it was like they'd never been in this little petty fight - if you could call it that. They'd certainly had worse; in fact, this was probably the smallest scale he'd ever seen between them. In any case, he melted into it, forgetting everything but familiarity, the comfort of knowing someone so well for so long that they felt like home. And that was becoming less of a strange concept, the closer they became - Brendon being home for him. He was annoying and persistent, but he was what kept Ryan curious, what kept the days from blurring together, the only thing that welcomed change and inconsistency and the delightful anxiety that came with an ever-shifting routine. His hands fit easily around Brendon's waist, reposeful, and in the silence it seemed like the elevator would never stop. They were in here, dynamic duo, the pairing of an era, unstoppable, for whatever time was available. And that was all very ridiculous of him, sure, but it'd been a while since they'd been this close, and Ryan was sentimental and dumb and easily attached, and now Brendon was saying 'I'll be good for you' and he felt all his senses short out, or something. 

So when the elevator did stop and the fantasy ended in a jumbled panic, Ryan was embarrassed and relieved simultaneously. If they had even one more floor to go up he'd probably be rushing out bated agreements. He stepped out of the elevator, immediately defending his too-long hesitation, how obviously easy he was, and Brendon knew. That smile. Ryan's gaze was too tender, so he turned away determinedly. [i]Mh-hm.[/i] Ryan was silent for a few moments, and because Brendon was quiet, too, odd behavior for him, he glanced over again, picking up on the newfound confidence in his posture. [b]"Shut up,"[/b] he said, even though Brendon hadn't said a word, and pointedly ignored the fact that he could feel Brendon's attention fixated on him the whole way to their room. It's not that it was bothersome, or anything like that; it made him wistful, somehow charmed that Brendon could chase this long. For someone like Ryan, of all people, no less. He knew he was still blushing even as he fumbled with their door, entered the room, hid his face as much as he could.

When Brendon kicked the door shut Ryan instinctively turned to trace the sound, catching him looking on fondly and almost shrinking from it. Seriously. He was easy. [i]Why, love? Seems counterproductive to me.[/i] Love. He really was a demon. Ryan opened his mouth to actually answer, something angry and accusatory if he could make it up on the spot, but his voice apparently was gone for the time being, so he shut up. He thought, at best, Brendon would tire of this and go pass out in bed, maybe on the couch to Ryan's right, but he approached moments after Ryan had fallen into his chair. Ryan regarded him carefully, turning his head from where it'd been facing the ceiling, and short-circuited when he dropped to his knees. Brendon looked [i]dead[/i] serious. Ryan nearly moved to sit up straighter, worried, but froze when Brendon placed his elbows over his knees, gaze flicking everywhere for a few counts before settling on Brendon's. 

And he was beautiful. Infuriatingly so. His hair fell over his face, and Ryan's impulse was, as usual, to fix it, but he was still solid as ice - even as Brendon trailed his fingers up his thigh. Ryan's fingers twitched over either armrest, having been slack, useless, through the ordeal. [i]Ryan, baby.[/i] Ryan was beyond screwed. Past the point of no return. He was way too into him. Demon. [i]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.[/i] 'Okay' was the immediate response in his head, and he was actually glad his voice had run for the hills already, otherwise he'd have uttered it stupidly, automatically. His lips were parted, prepared to do something to either stop this in its track or dumbly go along with whatever Brendon was plotting, until his hand stopped its path and he moved instead into Ryan's lap. [i]I’m sorry, really.[/i]

Ryan stared at him, honey gaze meeting his silken one, and he felt almost guilty. Here was Brendon, screwing around, lively, and Ryan was completely involved. This wasn't even serious enough to be truly nervous, and here he was, on the spot. [b]"I can't follow your rules,"[/b] he blurted out, sudden, impulsive, and stilled again, eyes intent on Brendon's. He supposed the out-of-nowhere confession came from this desire for Brendon to like him back, to accept the 'boyfriends' concept even when it'd never worked before. They were in different circumstances now, so. Another chance, he guessed, was a good idea, or at least a feasible one. [b]"I can't do this for just one tour. I- I was afraid that I was losing valuable time, when you weren't talking to me, and. I like you. So."[/b] He was talking oddly fast, and then he placed anxious hands on either side of Brendon's waist, distantly aware that this gave him grounds to walk out. After a pause, he regretted it, backtracked. [b]"I mean. No, whatever, I forgive you, we can- the bedroom's right there. Sorry."[/b] Ryan framed his face with his hands, moving ridiculously fast, planted a desperate kiss on his cheek, and shifted forward on the seat as if about to stand, one hand on Brendon's back and the other securing his head. [b]"Okay? Past is the past, bygones, you know; forget what I said."[/b]