The struggle between 'what do I really feel' and 'what are the exact right [i]final draft[/i]-worthy words to say here' was what took place in Ryan's mind in those suffocating thirty seconds following Brendon's confession, then the five minutes alone on the steps, and then, well. It continued even when he came to Brendon's door. For the first time, words left his mouth that weren't quite so thought out; that weren't something he scribbled out in the notebook of his mind, then had to approve in a different sector, then finally spoke aloud. Granted, at first, it was pretty stupid. '[i]Are you okay?[/i]' Come on. Hell no. No one would be. He supposed the thought of Brendon leaving, the idea coming to full fruition from Brendon himself, out loud, then and there - that was enough to kick him into gear. Fuck a 'proofread' version of his feelings. He figured they were uncomplicated enough. Brendon was a grand example to follow. His emotions weren't so... reined in. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

Ryan was quick to the punch, fairly concise, and he supposed by Brendon's reaction, it was hardly convincing for a split-second - even out of character. Yeah, he could see that. This was all a far cry from the chainsmoking evil porch man Brendon had first met. The asshole who waltzed into his study and demanded that Brendon get out... although, he was received pretty well then. Regardless, it was all very different in this moment, simply because he felt a different kind of mental clarity. This, he supposed, was what living in a moment rather than concocting your own stories all the time was like. His life was usually so predictable, measurable, quantified by pages, by word counts, by chapters. It's, shockingly, exhilarating to admit that you are and have been very much in love with the person you spend sometimes 100% of your day with (and then, as they often did, opt to work late into the night on any given chapter that didn't have a deadline and could wait until the next day... though, of course, half of this overtime was dedicated to random, derivative conversations, hanging out of seats upside down when they were bored, so forth).

Alongside Ryan's urgency, Brendon appeared to begin to agree with him, nodding with brighter eyes, his grin almost matching. Ryan didn't take it lightly - he was endlessly lucky that Brendon just naturally understood him at this point, seemed to catch on that the nervous pause he took wasn't anything real to go off of. He wasn't demanding explanation, wasn't pushing him away; he knew Ryan well enough. Ryan admired him up close when he was hovering over him, realizing in the moment that he hadn't quite done this yet, that he needed the moment to stretch a little longer. Yes, he was [i]observant,[/i] he was only human, and Brendon was stupidly pretty. But this close up - it wasn't really welcome before. Or, well. They hadn't caught up with one another until now. He ran his fingers through his hair another time, mirroring the way Brendon always cleared it from his eyes, as if it'd be any more revealing. [i]Who are you?[/i] Ryan squinted, raised his eyebrows right back at Brendon. He had a smart-ass answer-that's-really-a-question loaded up, like, '[i]boyfriend?[/i]' but wasn't quite as brazen as usual. 

[i]Quick, say something normal, like- be an asshole, so I know it’s really you and I’m not fuckin’- dreaming.[/i] Ryan laughed, a little more settled, muted. He hummed thoughtfully for a moment. [b]"You were right. You are, in fact, loud as hell from floors away. Doesn't mean I don't miss you."[/b] He grinned again, like he was on the verge of laughing again, but they were tilted towards each other, the angle a little too perfect to ignore. Brendon answered with action, not words, taking the liberty of leaning them backward, tugging Ryan with him. His surety was infectious; Ryan fell easily into rhythm with him, resting against his hand, even losing tension in his arms and relaxing into him, and - he chased Brendon's lips for an embarrassing split second when he pulled away, blinking like he'd just been woken up. [i]I- Ryan, fuck.[/i] Oh, god, he must've done something weird. Ryan lifted himself slightly, prepared for the worst. [i]I need to get dressed, oh my god. Look at me.[/i] Ryan followed his gaze, then paused, squinting at Brendon when his hand raised to his chest. Well, unfortunate, but understandable. [b]"How modest of you."[/b] He almost let up, then caught himself, placing a hand over Brendon's and leaning down again to kiss him once more, just brief, before rolling aside.

A little more in character now. He folded an arm behind his head and looked reflective. [b]"I mean, you're usually, like."[/b] Ryan propped himself up, keeping from cracking up. [b]"Remember when you got into my study and you were acting in very un-Christian ways? You're a changed man."[/b] This was a little more familiar - teasing was in their nature. He rested on his arm again, watching Brendon with an amused grin back on his face.