Even though the wave of feelings that washed over Brendon upon admitting his long-nursed and deep-seated genuine affection for Ryan was a content one, a calm one, there was a secondary rush of emotion that wasn’t so collected and peaceful. It was like the tide of good nature had drawn steadily back to sea and left their issues in the form of flotsam and debris and broken shells half-buried in the sand that was their long and complicated history. He realised all too suddenly the implications of admitting something so vulnerable to someone who had the power to make him crumble to the ground, buckle in defeat- but just as soon as the emotions came, the calm returned, the wave of reassurance creeping up the bay again and slowly dislodging different problems from the sand and taking them away to sea.

It was all very pretty, in his head- the idea of them, the idea of having Ryan for himself in a way that wasn’t possessive but trusting and sure, the idea of being able to call him a partner, a boyfriend, anything more concrete and certain than ‘acquaintance’, ‘old friend’, or the worst of them all, a ‘friend with benefits’. The last one was a false testament to what they had perceived themselves to be- two men who didn’t like eachother but enjoyed eachother’s company because they were only flesh and blood, after all, spending night after night together didn’t compromise the coldness at its core, the fact that they sometimes simply sat and talked didn’t undermine the purely physical nature of their relationship. Of course they were wrong and Brendon now knew it. It wasn’t love but then Brendon wouldn’t know how to describe such a thing if he tried- all he knew was that he wanted to be around Ryan as much as possible and he had so much to tell him it was kind of daunting.

Again, though, it was peaceful. Warm. They were in close proximity and Brendon stared at him for a few long moments, allowing himself to indulge in a view he had denied himself all the time he’d known Ryan- the ability to look into his eyes and savour them without guilt, to allow himself to conjure up the beginnings of love songs, montage reels of honey and autumn and cold sunrises and feeling joy instead of cringing at his own ridiculous fantasy. It was still ridiculous, this romanticisation- but it wasn’t really a problem. They knew too much dirt on eachother and it had been too ugly in the past between them for them to ever worry about idealising eachother- they knew the worst of the worst about the other and still felt this passion, this vitality that wasn’t shifting, partly because neither of them were pushing it violently away.

They were both grinning, taking in eachother’s faces like they had been given a time limit only in the past, they always had. And now they didn’t- well, no metaphorical one anyway. Maybe a real one, like people wondering where the hell the two of them are and finally suspecting what somehow, nobody had picked them up for yet. First of all, they were not discreet. Brendon was too whiney and attention seeking for that- just before they had kissed outside in broad daylight against a tour bus like teenagers. Secondly, they were... loud. Brendon’s train of thought finally returned to his initial plan of action and his much less wholesome goal for this evening came back to him. Ryan was just laughing. [i]Well, then, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we.[/i] Very promising, but they were still crammed into this armchair, and as cute and cosy as it was, it wasn’t exactly suitable. [i]Need I remind you, I was very against this ten minutes ago.[/i] Brendon grinned, and quickly stole a kiss, pulling back before Ryan could even return it. [b]“No you weren’t. You could never resist me for long,”[/b] He said softly, in jest, mostly, but there was definitely truth to it. Then Ryan was coaxing his shirt over his head and Brendon helped, pulling it off and dumping it on the floor, then immediately leaning in again to kiss him. Ryan was speaking before he even pulled back. [i]Is this mine?[/i]

Brendon glanced down at the t shirt quizzically as though he hadn’t intentionally worn that shirt to get under Ryan’s very thin skin, and smiled, faking bemusement. [b]“Maybe,”[/b] He said, flashing him another grin. [i]You have [/i]such [i]a crush on me.”[/i] Oh. Well. So he wanted to play at that game. Brendon was very much about to call him out but suddenly Ryan was on his feet, and Brendon wrapped his legs around him embarrassingly quickly, like it was muscle memory. He gazed at him senselessly and let out a euphoric laugh when they both landed on the bed- it wasn’t soft but wasn’t uncomfortable- a little springy in the mattress department, Brendon realised, and as they both settled onto it, the force collided the headboard with the wall. Not ideal. Not that he minded- he watched Ryan move between his legs and watched him, always closely, even as he undid the top button of his jeans. It all felt so normal, but apprehensive, like they’d never done this before, but then-

[i]Since when did you know?[/i]

Brendon came to a revelation then. As long as there were unanswered questions, Ryan’s head would not be in this and that was pointless, so Brendon reached out and pressed a hand against his chest gently, keeping him back. [b]“You just want to talk, don’t you?”[/b] He said in a quiet, amused tone. [b]“You’re too cute to [i]rail[/i] me right now anyway.”[/b] Partially a joke- but Brendon hadn’t waited two weeks for Ryan to give minimum effort. Instead, he just kissed Ryan again, obsessed with how it made him feel, and thought for a few moments, reaching out one hand to hang onto the fabric of his shirt’s neckline, keeping him at least close. [b]“Since- Well. Probably since Seattle,”[/b] He murmured, blinking slowly. [b]“But I realised- truly realised when- it wasn’t you playing next to me anymore. But I ignored that too, so. Probably... when I looked sidestage during our first performance and you were there in the wings. I just- couldn’t wait to see you straight after.”[/b] He paused. [b]”And you?”[/b]