So, sometimes Ryan did have business to attend to, and that business was often shady- not that Brendon had a problem with that. He’d been buying from bootleggers for a long time now. What he [i]did[/i] have a problem with was being left alone, especially when he was feelinf extra affectionate; what Brendon thrived on, other than music and good whiskey, was attention. That said, though, Ryan didn’t have to leave him [i]much[/i]- comparatively, at least, when you looked at how often Brendon had to go and perform or play the host at one of his lavish parties. 

...Then again, so he always invited Ryan along to watch him sing, and Ryan never declined if he could manage it. And when Brendon was ‘hosting’ (like he did much of that even before the beginning of their relationship, his entire fuckin’ schtick had been being a practical no-show at his own event), the two of them tended to get comfortably warm-fuzzy from good liquor and disappeared upstairs, leaving Brendon’s plentiful guests unattended. They often awoke in the morning satisfied, so when Brendon came downstairs to survey the wasteland of his house, he wasn’t that bothered. He never really cared anyway, he had people he hired to clean that up, so he could spend valuable time in his lover’s arms.

So, though Ryan tried his very best to always be available, it turned out that tonight he really did have somewhere else to be. Brendon understood, really, but come [i]on.[/i] Though Ryan was devout to his reliable reputation and never called in when he was required, even for Brendon, he still had to give it a shot on convincing him to stay. Even just for a little while longer. [i]I can’t, darlin’, you know it.[/i] Brendon’s eye twitched. He was turning him down while calling him that pet name he could never resist. That was what Ryan used when he [i]wanted[/i] something, and the fucking asshole had to pull it on him now, when [i]Brendon[/i] was the one pestering him for his company. Honestly. Brendon sighed, still melted by the endearment like he was every damn time. [i]A good boss doesn’t call in.[/i] Suppose not. Brendon knew he should just leave it, Ryan knew what he was doing, but- he was uptight, ran an unnecessarily tight ship, god knew he could afford to cut himself some slack, play it a little looser. [b]”And a good lover don’t leave me hanging,”[/b] Brendon argued, cocking an eyebrow and grinning as he simultaneously leaned in to attempt a convincing kiss. 

[i]Please, I always do.[/i] Brendon was losing hope at this point, but he was a real firecracker and devil take him if he was going to let Ryan go off playing outlaws over some printed bills while he sat around in his dumpy apartment nursing a bottle by himself like some lonely housewife. So he persisted, but only after leaning backwards, raising his eyebrows as Ryan trailed his hand down his chest. If he wanted it, he could have it, but no, he had to go and ‘break some kneecaps’ instead. Fool. [i]I do need to be there. I’d invite you, love, but you’re little and these bastards really are trouble.[/i] Brendon scoffed, clenching his jaw, irritated. [b]“I’m a grown man, Rowe. I don’t need [i]protecting.[/i] Y’dont know what kind of shit I’d had to get myself out of back when I was just making a name for myself. Curse of bein’ out.”[/b] He knew what Ryan said was meant endearingly, and he knew it was because half the time he did act like some princess who needed waiting on 24/7. But he was pulling every trick in the book he knew to earn a little extra with him. 

His pleading gaze fell down to where Ryan was playing with one of the rings Brendon had gifted him. Cute. Brendon had something of a thing for Ryan’s hands, for obvious reasons. He made that obvious by buying him god knows how much jewellery to adorn them with. Clicking his tongue, he then shifted over fluidly into Ryan’s lap, settling down so comfortable and naturally that it was clear it was his second nature to assume that position by now. Ryan was stronger than him, but he leaned back anyways. Good sign. [i]Oh, please.[/i] Brendon shifted a little, hopeful. [i]I reckon you’re right, it’ll be difficult.[/i] Another good sign. Feeling triumphant, Brendon’s mouth twitched into a winning smirk. [i]But I’ll manage.[/i] He celebrated too soon. Brendon’s smirk faded and he opened his mouth to whine his complaints but Ryan just- picked him up, hand under his thigh. Like the opportunist he was he went in almost immediately to try and kiss him but Ryan had already dropped him back down onto the sofa. [i]Fuck.[/i]

[b]”Fucker,”[/b] He mumbled, folding his arms over his bare chest and slumping, sinking back into the sofa, full sulk mode. [i]As cute as you are, dearest, I gotta jet. [/i]No you fucking don’t. Brendon stood up and followed him adamantly. [i]Think I should take a crowbar? A bat? Not sure.[/i] Well, He was heading to the bedroom, so Brendon saw another window open as one closed. He didn’t notice the minimal disturbance outside. [b]”Listen, baby, listen,”[/b] Brendon began, his voice dropping an octave so he was now speaking in a soft, growling tone, like he was about to start singing. It was his stage voice- it indicated he was about to put on a show of some sort or another. [b]”So.”[/b] He leaned against the doorframe and his eyes followed Ryan for a second. [b]”You’re always early, right? Just to make sure. [i]Way[/i] early,”[/b] He added. [b]”So- you don’t have to set off, yet, yeah? Just- twenty minutes. Fifteen, maybe. Specifics are down to you,”[/b] He grinned, arching an eyebrow. Just to sweeten the deal, he stretched his arms out above his head and clung on to the top of the doorframe, letting the rest of his body hang loose as the muscles of his arms and torso grew taut. [b]”Y’know, ‘cause you love me.”[/b]