[i]Here’s what I think.[/i]

Ryan had a tendency to look bored in these situations where he was actually wired, and now was no different - he half-mumbled a curious sound in response, looking interested but still utterly slack against his faded couch. His gaze didn't rest comfortably on any one place, instead lazily drifting around Brendon's features, then the curve of his shoulder, then the press of his hand against Brendon's waist, repeat. He shut his eyes for a moment when Brendon came close to his ear, feeling the gentlest nip, re-opening them when Brendon returned to smile and kiss him sweetly again. Ryan tilted his head back, feeling like the luckiest bastard alive, and secured both hands around Brendon's waist rather than one before shifting them into a comfortable position, clearly invested in letting this moment drag out.

[i]I think that you should stay here tonight.[/i] He smiled slightly, turning immediately when Brendon kissed his cheek, almost in time to catch his lips with his own - but only almost. He chased, grinning in amusement, because this happened every single time Ryan had somewhere to go. This time it was... marginally more important that he actually did escape Brendon's unrelenting charisma. He and Spencer and their team had a customer who snubbed them out of payments, provided counterfeits when Ryan collected a deposit, was generally bad for business. And Ryan didn't really let that kind of thing go, not when he was losing profit from a buyer who needed about as much product as Brendon did: a lot. So, naturally, they were going to do something about it, because sonsabitches really think they could get away with printed bills, like Ryan wouldn't eventually see the discrepancy. Assholes.

Ryan watched him as he pulled a hand through his hair, came close just to inhale. Ryan had never had someone be this genuinely interested in him, and to leave him now to break some kneecaps really seemed like a bad idea. Ryan pursed his lips, hair sticking up at various angles above him. [b]"I can't, darlin', you know it. A good boss doesn't call in."[/b] Or something like that. Hey, his best-known trait was never being a no-call no-show, always working and possibly overworking. [i]Spence has it covered, y’know?[/i] He did not. Spencer could be mean, but he couldn't be truly vindictive, just kind of an asshole. Ryan was the one that carried out the hits whenever they had a deal gone awry, or any sort of shitty situation. Because he figured Brendon knew as much, Ryan raised an eyebrow at him, easily turning with the guidance of his hand and searching his eyes. 

Brendon was the first to smile a little, and Ryan broke character just to match him, leaning up at the same time Brendon came down to kiss him right. Brendon's smile became too wide for it to properly continue and Ryan continued kissing him regardless, pressing smaller ones to the edges of Brendon's mouth, to his lower lip. [i]Y’don’t even need to be there, babe.[/i] [b]"Please. I always do."[/b] He was barely loud enough to actually interrupt, though.[i] They won’t forget you in a hurry, I know these guys caused you trouble n’everything, but like you said, once you said it to them straight- they know you mean business.[/i] Ryan watched him silently, not willing to argue, but it's not like he was going to cut Brendon off in the middle of this tangent. He didn't like being the one at fault for him being pouty. Brendon sat back and Ryan trailed his hand down his sternum, over his stomach, as his arm extended to follow him. 

[i]You don’t need to be there. I can think of other things to do. Less productive, but maybe... Maybe more pleasurable.[/i] Ryan smirked, pulling his lip between his teeth after a moment of hesitation. He was cursed. He had a boyfriend too convincing. [b]"I do need to be there. I'd invite you, love, but you're little and these bastards really are trouble."[/b] He smiled, lifting his hand and holding Brendon's chin delicately for a moment between his thumb and index finger as he called him 'little.' It was true, yeah, but maybe he shouldn't [i]say[/i] so lest Brendon's puppydog complex came out. Y'know the one. Where they're tiny but act big and mighty. Ryan didn't think it through, though, because he was whiskey-warm, vaguely fuzzy and smiling fondly on a small scale. His tolerance was enough that he could split the bottle with Brendon as far as they had and not be stumbling and stupid, but really - if it didn't get you drunk, then it was a bad product, and Ryan only sold what he was proud of. Here they were. 

Ryan kept his eyes on Brendon's in the moment that passed, waiting to be taken seriously, until Brendon's gaze dropped down to view his hands, the countless rings littering his fingers. Conscious of where his attention had gone, Ryan studied him briefly before finding a ring Brendon had given him, not even having to search, and spun it slowly, like it was his natural solution to anxious times. For sure, when Brendon wasn't around it was stress relief to toy with the rings he'd given him and remember that he'd be home to him soon. Brendon's eyes returned to him a couple beats later, and almost predictably, he moved right into Ryan's lap, forcing him slightly back against the armrest. Ryan cleared his throat imperceptibly and shifted his hips somewhat, adjusting them both once again. [i]Besides, you look so comfortable.[/i] His serious expression broke, and Ryan laughed, looking enamoured. [b]"Oh, please."[/b]

[i]How will you ever even manage to get up? I say stay with me.[/i] Ryan studied him, amused, and placed his hand along the side of Brendon's face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone, for all of a few seconds. [b]"I reckon you're right, it'll be difficult."[/b] He looked a touch disappointed for a moment, acting, before he slipped both arms around Brendon's waist, held him close, and stood up holding him in the same ridiculous position he'd assumed moments ago. Ryan tucked a hand beneath his thigh to keep him upright while he pulled his head back, enough to grin at him. [b]"But I'll manage."[/b] He leaned forward and dropped Brendon back onto the couch, combing a hand through his hair endearingly before he stepped away. [b]"As cute as you are, dearest, I gotta jet. Think I should take a crowbar? A bat? Not sure."[/b] Ryan passed by the window as he walked away towards his open bedroom, glancing out momentarily at Model Ts humming down the street, other cars veering out of their way. Bizarre.