It had been both fascinating and amusing to Brendon to find out that he and Ryan weren’t all that different, apparently, when it came down to things like mutual attraction and affection and pure thirst. Ryan was just more shy about it, only revealing it, evidently, when he was wasted beyond return. Fuck, maybe he didn’t even know himself that he was capable of being so goddamn forward- around [i]other people[/i], even, which was truly jaw dropping at the time and still to Brendon now considering that Ryan could barely get through the mildest dirty talk (if it could even be classed as that, how PG-13 Ryan was verbally) when they were completely alone and Brendon was literally coming undone for him. It was satisfying, at least, to know that he had the same effect on Ryan that Ryan had on him. An ego boost, almost- until, well. Ryan started revealing to people who really didn’t ask exactly how they had sex, and that Brendon was a bottom, through and through, no doubts there. And it must’ve been pretty mortifying because Brendon had close to no sense of shame or concept of embarrassment.

That said, it was [i]true.[/i] It wasn’t like Brendon had a distaste for taking on the role he did- the complete opposite, as Ryan had helpfully explained, but he just had some kind of complex where he didn’t want people to know that he was like that. His confidence and independence defined him and he had a weird thing about people knowing he was so submissive, when among others and in day to day life he was so assertive. In Brendon’s mind, he was unclockable, so for Ryan to just go ahead and ‘blow his cover’ was like a slap in the face and Brendon didn’t even get time to damage control, ‘fix’ his image, because he had to look after his poor, wasted boyfriend. Thinking about it a little, Brendon reflected on his fear of his role being known- and decided that maybe it was something to work on, some kind of internalised issue with himself he hadn’t addressed. That dramatic bullshit aside- it was very reasonable for him to not want very intimate details about the two of them broadcast to strangers or otherwise very different parties, he thought, so he carried on with his deliberately careful confrontation about Ryan’s behaviour.

[i]If water will[/i] fix [i]me...[/i] Brendon wasn’t sure if anything could fx Ryan at this point other than time- he had the kind of hangover that, even with painkillers and gallons of water or more alcohol, could only be cured by waiting and suffering for a while until the pain and nausea subsided. [b]”It might help,”[/b] Brendon said encouragingly, but he was still dubious. He mentally noted down that he should get Ryan a glass of water sooner rather than later so he didn’t complain too much. [b]”I’ll get you some, and painkillers. In a bit.”[/b] His voice was deliberately vague-sounding and neutral, and he shifted, before kissing Ryan chastely on the cheek. [i]My angel.[/i] Aw. Fuck. It was hard to even pretend to be mad at him when he was so soft and affectionate and referred to him as [i]angel[/i] or [i]baby[/i] or [i]darling.[/i] Brendon just melted in response every time no matter how much he heard it. [i]Everything’s how I imagined it’d be in heaven... except I feel like actual shit.[/i] He raised his eyebrows. [b]”Well, maybe you’re in hell.”[/b]

[i]Zack telling me to go away, the fucker. [/i]Brendon smirked, [b]”Yeah, you kept sneaking in tryna kiss me before the show. Distracting me.”[/b] [i]And then... the cab ride. That’s it.[/i] Evidently not the ride back to the hotel, featuring antics from Ryan like requesting head and straddling Brendon’s lap in the backseat. Those memories flashed through his mind and he exhaled, wondering where to start with this if Ryan really remembered so little about what happened last night. He wanted to make sure he didn’t think the worst, like, he had cheated, or something awful like that, though even fucking wasted neither of them would even dream of something like that. Hell, Ryan had refused to kiss him, at first, because he thought that he wasn’t Brendon. Even thinking about that he felt a surge of affection and an urge to go easy on Ryan- especially considering he looked so concerned when Brendon brought up his behaviour. [i]What- what? Was I mean? What happened?[/i]

Brendon stared at their joined hands and laughed awkwardly, genuinely lost as to where to start. [b]”No, no, not mean. Far from it, dude. You were, uh. Thirsty. Very... Sexual.”[/b] He said the word like they were twelve year olds, cursing, but scared that their parents would hear. [b]”You got into the car and I tried to kiss you and you refused, saying that. You were spoken for. You didn’t recognise me at all, you were so gone,”[/b] He explained, looking up as he recalled the events in the car. [b]”I thought it was funny, so I asked about- your boyfriend. You started talking about, uh, my ass. And how you stared at it and you couldn’t help but think about fucking me when I’m on stage wearing-“[/b] He stifled a laugh, trying to remain serious, [b]”Tight jeans.”[/b] A pause to let it sink in, before he continued. [b]”You said you wanted to touch ‘every inch’ of me. Like, normally, I’d have been flattered, but it was in front of Zack and this driver. Thought you’d like to know, in case Zack mentions it.”[/b] Obviously, that wasn’t all, and Brendon made that clear by staring at Ryan intently, gauging is reaction and letting him come to terms with his very uncharacteristic behaviour. [b]“Actually, I think he recorded some of it.”[/b]