Neve

in the sickness of you ;; b&r

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a therapeutic chain of events || b&r

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if we go on || b&r

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if you're going, then go || b&r

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if you're going, then go || b&r

It was easy to think of hollow, outwardly barbed comments to make when he was so used to having an arsenal of insults ready for Ryan at all times, but now, when he said them, his heart wasn’t in it. In the past, when they had explosive arguments, the only way they’d calm down was to separate and get as far away from eachother as possible- now, when they’d crashed and collided in such a way that Brendon had initially thought this would just escalate the tension and anger, all of that bursting emotion seemed to be seeping away. It wasn’t like they were suddenly friends, suddenly on good terms- but both of them lost the will to pretend they hadn’t wanted this from the beginning, slowing down their kisses until Brendon pulled back, now demanding answers and not entirely satisfied with the ones that Ryan offered him. He didn’t believe for a second that, if it were up to Ryan, he would have been invited to his stupid birthday party- and though, yeah, Ryan had come here of all places from across the country, but it took him being drunk and depressed about his sort-of ex girlfriend. That, as much as he loathed to admit, hit a weak spot- that he might kid himself that Ryan was obsessed with him, but it took a lot of obvious prompting to get Ryan to this point. And now they were boneless on opposite sides of the bed, legs drawn in, almost pushed apart by some invisible force.

The fact Ryan didn’t comment when Brendon accused him of spouting bullshit about inviting him and wanting him at the party confirmed his suspicions that Ryan was just saying what he thought Brendon wanted to hear, but he couldn’t bring himself to be mad, he wasn’t even surprised. It would be difficult to just turn up at a celebration entirely for his nemesis. Nobody would believe for a second that they solved years of bad blood and toxicity and conflict just in miraculous time for Ryan’s shitty birthday. Brendon imagined a scenario as he tilted his head to the ceiling to process everything where he had been invited, he had turned up, how would that go? He wouldn’t even know what to get him for his birthday that he wouldn’t scoff at. Jon wasn’t even there, so that sucked. Spencer was, but he couldn’t just bother Spencer all night. Luckily, Brendon was something of a social butterfly to a certain extent (definitely more of an extent than Ryan), so he figured that even if he didn’t know many people, he’d fit in and calm down pretty quickly. He’d be able to ignore the loud, obnoxiously obvious whispers and comments about him, wondering why he was there, who invited him, had he and Ryan even spoken for a moment. Thinking about it, he came full circle, and he was again glad he hadn’t been invited by Keltie.

Keltie. Keltie had cockblocked him. Indirectly, but still, it sucked to be regaining his breath at the end of a slightly uncomfortable hotel bed when Ryan was leaning back against the headboard at the other end. He considered their situation for a moment, wondered what the time was, and rubbed his hands over his eyes, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and looking back at the ceiling to purse his lips. He could just- he could just accept the victory and ask Ryan to leave, awarding Brendon the hypothetical higher ground and more ammunition to hold over his heads he could do that. Didn’t mean he wanted to. Another course of action would be to just resume what they’d started, albeit with less outward hatred and fire, and honestly Brendon had picked that before he even thought about the first option. He looked back at Ryan and met his eyes for a moment before he shifted forwards with purpose, settling after getting easily comfortable in Ryan’s lap and clutching at the fabric of the front of his shirt, tilting Ryan’s head up smartly towards him. For a second, he hesitated, yet again torn between upping and leaving or not, and met his gaze.

It didn’t take another second after that for Brendon to lean down and kiss him. It wasn’t malicious, or aggressive, but it was charged, not exactly calm and comfortable but definitely having mellowed out considerably, when the alarming viciousness of their first kiss was taken into account. And that hadn’t been very long ago. Or had it? Brendon had lost track of time. He probably couldn’t go to sleep now if he wanted to. Brendon pulled back barely from the kiss and trailed over gradually to the side of his face, shivering noticeably when he felt Ryan’s hand exploring up from his chest and across to his jaw. Brendon felt crushingly apprehensive and still kind of hated Ryan for how much he affected him. Well. Oh no. When I imagined us finally sleeping together it didn’t involve a makeout session quite this long and complicated. Brendon’s stomach dropped, because, fuck, Ryan had actually imagined it? Ryan had spent time of his life thinking about that? Brendon had, of course, but to know they were both in the same boat- he exhaled, a shaky breath, and allowed himself a smirk. ”I like foreplay,” He offered, unaware he was basically a mindreader. ”And I’d like to know what you did imagine.”

But it crossed my mind a lot. This was getting better with every word that came out of Ryan’s mouth, or worse, depending on how Brendon looked at it. He decided on ‘better’. I mean. Look at you. Brendon said nothing and just met his eyes, closing them briefly when Ryan traced his thumb over the corner of his mouth. It was sore. He opened his eyes again. ”It takes a whole fuckload of alcohol and me making out with you for a good while for you to admit that you’re even attracted to me,” He breathed out in a cynical laugh, but he wasn’t really bothered. As long as he knew now. ”But, I’m flattered, an’ you’re hot.” He would have leaned in to kiss him, then, but apparently Ryan wasn’t going to shut up. What was knew? Also. Great, what now? He knew everything he needed to know. I sort of figured you’d be the bottom. Brendon immediately shoved his head into Ryan’s shoulder, actually embarassed, because was he that obvious? He sucked in a breath, half-amused, and lifted his head back up decidedly. ”How’d you figure that out?”

if you're going, then go || b&r

Brendon wasn’t somebody to lose his temper often. He was fiery, and driven, and he was no pushover, but it never seemed to get the point with him where he reached his boiling point and bubbled over in some kind of loss of control due to rage. Any emotions he experienced tended to be strong and intense, but he wasn’t ruled by them, not usually. Specific people affected him in different ways- Spencer made him feel calm and supported and appreciated, Jon provided a groundedness and an honesty that made him feel respected. Ryan, though, the fourth member of the unit and in the pecking order in Brendon’s eyes, was one of the only people who could push him over the metaphorical age, take his prevalent but contained Aries sparks and ignite them into a roaring flame. He was the only person who could cause him to snap, and he hated it- the one person he wasn’t willing to be vulnerable around, the one person he wanted to back off from him and leave him alone, and Ryan knew what particular buttons to press if he wanted to get a rise out of Brendon. It was the same vice versa, so it was something of a mutually assured destruction, but the threat of his own embarrassment and the theoretical demise of his dignity was enough to keep him hesitant, at least, in an ideal world. In reality, when Ryan started to antagonise, and he was the one more likely to, it didn’t take long for Brendon’s composure to break.

Lucky for Brendon, he seemed to have one-upped him this time, but then he’d sort of triumphed as soon as Ryan left the party and bought a plane ticket, even if he didn’t know it. His second victory was when Ryan turned up at his hotel room door, the third was when Ryan opened slightly up to him about his and Keltie’s failing relationship, the fourth was when Brendon presented the opportunity and Ryan fell for the bait and leaned in to kiss him. Hook, line, sinker- his initial intention was just to see what he’d do, pull back and be done with it but hold it over his head forever, but there they were, Brendon with his back pressed against the mattress and Ryan holding himself slightly above, holding him down on the cushions, and they were still kissing, Brendon biting relentlessly because he didn’t really want Ryan to get anything out of this, he didn’t want to get anything out of this, then it would be too real. But it was probably too late for that, now. He paused briefly at Ryan’s neck and then let himself go limp against the sheets, catching his breath.

Ryan had a hand cradling his face and Brendon wondered whether he should move it away, because now it was just quiet, a breath of calm, even though the tension was crushing. He felt Ryan’s hands still tangling in his hair, but he didn’t feel his nails, it felt gentler, almost restrained. Brendon stared up at him, eyes still dark, breathing deep to recover after he had replied to Ryan’s bullshit declaration about how ‘if you wanted to be nice, you’d have been at my stupid party’. But, really- Brendon didn’t know what Ryan wanted him to do. If he had turned up, he’d hardly know or like anybody, not even the birthday boy himself. Ryan would have snidely commented about how his presence wasn’t welcome, why wasn’t he even here, and Keltie would make some venomous remark like ‘go pine after somebody else’s boyfriend’, or ‘funny how you claim to hate him and follow him around like a puppy’. Brendon hadn’t really been particularly inclined either way about Keltie in the beginning, she was just Ryan’s girlfriend, not her fault he was in a messy situation with Brendon. But she’d joined in. Now he couldn’t stand either of them. Going to that party would have been his own personal idea of hell, aside from the fact it was themed around basically mocking the man of the hour. Besides, Jon wasn’t even there. What was up with that?

You’re real fucking bold, you know. Still with slightly parted lips, Brendon turned up his mouth at the corner into a poorly concealed half-smirk. ”At least I’m not fucking boring.” They kisses for maybe a few moments after that, and Brendon had tuned out a little, only paying attention enough that he just about heard Ryan mention Keltie as he pulled back and lifted himself up a little. Honestly, he’d been expecting this- even if he was ruffled about how they’d been, what, making out for a while now and all he could think about was the basically-ex girlfriend he had decided to officially break up with at the soonest possible opportunity. Way to kill the mood- though maybe that was safe. Something in Ryan’s energy was becoming calmer, almost neutral instead of intense anger and friction, and Brendon was alarmed, though the hatred he had started this whole thing out with had simmered into remaining intensity combined with minimal anger that was continuing to burn out. After staring at Ryan for a moment, though, waiting for him to maybe denounce Keltie and get back to what they were doing, he inwardly rolled his eyes and sighed and physically drew himself away from Ryan, who mirrored his actions by leaning against the headboard.

Brendon feigned indifference and picked at the sheets on the bed, crossing one arm loosely across his chest. Sounds like it bothered you even more than it bothered me. For once, he had nothing to say- instead he tried to gain the upper hand in the other ways he knew as he thought of a comeback, leaning back on his elbows and tilting his head to the side, skin still carrying a sheen of sweat and chest rising and falling evenly with every deep breath. Yeah. ...Oh. Brendon blinked. It wasn’t like he didn’t know, but he didn’t expect Ryan to admit it with so little prompting. I would’ve invited you. That only earned him an eye roll. ”But you didn’t. You can say whatever shit you want, but if you don’t do it, you might as well be spinning bullshit.” Their eyes met for a half-second and Brendon wondered what he was thinking. I think about you more than I’ve ever thought about her.

Brendon’s increasingly tired eyes widened, and immediately he felt wide awake, first comprehension and then a sense of triumph surging through his entire body. Still lying back, propped up on his elbows, he tilted his head back fully and grinned at the ceiling, because this was all so funny. Slowly, he sat up, this time leaning back on both of his palms that were placed behind him against the mattress. That what you were looking for? ”I never thought you’d admit it,” He mused, sitting forwards and resting his hands on his lap, searching for Ryan’s gaze. He wished he had recorded that. ”But yeah, that’s what I wanted to hear.” Well. Now he didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d hit the jackpot- Ryan would never live this down. Setting out to almost seal the deal, he moved back in and moved onto his lap before he could protest, curling a fist in his shirt again and using it to tilt Ryan’s head back so he could lean down to kiss him and trail off to speak into his ear. ”What do you think about?”

stay afloat || b&r

Without his wings, in this corporeal form, Brendon was indistinguishable from ordinary human beings. He was, perhaps, a little too untouchable beautiful to match the criteria of what it was to be human- flawed, not perfect, rough around the edges. They were rough diamonds, quality with a lot of work and dedication, and Brendon was already flawlessly cut. However, despite his astounding appearance as a human, and maybe his odd, slightly unusual and socially inept behaviour, he had half-mastered customs and speech patterns that sounded at least vaguely realistic. He didn’t realise that people thought he was odd when they spoke to him, that he didn’t really fit in- even if he did realise, he wouldn’t mind. As long as they didn’t suspect anything (which was almost impossible, humans were too oblivious, absorbed in their own little bubbles, and/or just simply would never comprehend things beyond their own understanding), it was fine, if when he was walking down the street, all he did was turn a few heads.

Actually- aside from appearance and behaviour alone, an angel’s presence was generally sweet and calming, almost magnetic, and people subconsciously wanted to remain as close as possible without passing the normal human boundaries of personal space. Brendon had no concept of that, so he didn’t mind and in fact understood that Ryan seemed to be inching absent-mindedly closer, towards the source of the calm feeling settling in his bones. Brendon imagined he hadn’t felt like that in a long time, and considered that maybe once he stepped away and the intensity of it faded away, it wouldn’t be of any benefit. It would be like coming down from a high, and he’d feel a million times worse. In an effort to lessen that blow, he remained close, under the guise of friendliness. He stepped past Ryan into the apartment, brushing intentionally against his side and moving as if he weighed nothing, which, even in this body, he probably hardly weighed anything. Ryan was taller than him, he noted, but wasn’t sure why that was relevant. He supposed he just had to note down everything he realised and inferred about him, in hope it might be useful later on. Or something like that. Brendon temporarily got distracted by his own thoughts and hesitated in the middle of the floor, staring off into space.

Mornings, I work the in this book sho in the city. Customer service. Brendon looked surprised for a moment, because why was Ryan telling him this, he already knew- oh, Ryan didn’t know that he knew. Turning to look at Ryan curiously, he then remembered that he had asked the question in the first place, because he had to organically regain this information or Ryan would be tremendously freaked out when he started asking if his dad’s condition was getting worse without even asking him about his family. He nodded after a second, and he didn’t even have to pretend to be interested. This man was the only reason he was present, this man was his new priority, and he planned on giving him full, undivided attention. He was already- fond of him. That was the strongest positive emotion he had probably ever experienced. Still, the strength of it on earth surprised him, and he was still smiling comfortably. At night I wait tables. It’s all very glamorous. Brendon nodded again, attentively. He knew that being stuck in those jobs forever was Ryan’s idea of hell. He knew that if nothing changed about his situation, he probably wouldn’t be on earth to be helped for much longer. He felt an odd feeling in his throat and swallowed, before quirking a brow and keeping up his persistent smile.

Brendon had sat down, poised and somewhat out of place in the remarkably ordinary apartment, and he was still watching Ryan, having probably not taken his eyes off him for more than thirty seconds the entire time he had been here. To be honest, there were worse people to have to constantly pay attention to. Ryan was nice to look at. In fact, he could barely tear his eyes away even if he wanted to. A moment after Ryan uneasily mentioned his debts, Brendon paused to pretend to consider his response when he already knew what he was going to do long before he arrived. The confusion on his face confirmed for Brendon tat he wasn’t use to being offered- or accepting- any form of help. You really don't... have to... It's my debt, you know? Don't worry about it. He shrugged one shoulder, rested his chin in his hand and blinked slowly, earnest amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. ”If I move in here, consider it my debt, too.” Uh, well - let's not get ahead of ourselves, just... make sure you even want to live here first, yeah? Well, he definitely did, no doubt about that. ”Whatever you say. It’s really not a problem.”

As Ryan sat across from him, he removed his chin from his hand and instead draped himself back over the chair, somehow still perfectly balanced despite feeling very uncoordinated and clumsy in this earthbound form. How did humans do it all the time? Suit yourself, Bren. That smirk. Brendon’s lips parted a little as he examined the change in expression, one he wasn’t used to seeing, one he definitely didn’t expect from Ryan. Mentally copying it, he fabricated and returned the smirk, the corner of his mouth tilting up and his eyebrows quirking. Bren, he repeated in his head. He decided he liked it. ”I like that. You can call me whatever you like.”

He didn’t have the foresight to think of a job, or a backstory. Rookie mistake- even if he was a relative rookie compared to some. Brendon wondered for a moment if he was the right choice to help somebody so at risk. Coming out with the first job he could think of that didn’t require set hours that he had to disappear for, he landed on model, the word more of a question until Ryan confirmed it was believable. I could've guessed. Considering you look like that, it must be a reliable income, so. Fine by me. Brendon laughed, a gentle sound, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. ”Thank you, but if it were based purely on looks, you’d be as well off as me,” He remarked, not aware that what he was doing was accidental flirting. Brendon was just being honest- honesty was a virtue. That’s all? No backstory? Where were you before Vegas? Do you do anything else besides modelling - any hobbies?

Too many questions that he didn’t have answers to. Brendon started, a little concerned he’d be denied the opportunity to live here, and rapidly designed himself a believable backstory that was based on his own, scaled down considerably. ”I came from up north,” He began, drumming his fingers distractedly on the table, the first sign that he wasn’t always so composed. ”To get away from my dad. He’s really controlling, y’know? Sometimes it’s better to be by yourself. Well. Away from family, anyway. You don’t get to pick your family, so you get what you’re given. And it doesn’t work out for everyone.” Brendon was looking down, now, at his feet, as he tried to think if that needed any more elaboration. ”Oh, and- I sing.”

if we go on || b&r

Brendon was infamous for being both hard to please and impossible to predict even to his family members. Perhaps the only person who really understood what was going on in his head at this point was Ryan- his boyfriend, the person who now knew him the best alongside Gabe and who spent the most time with him. That could be attributed to the fact that, well, Ryan relied on him for a paycheck, just like how Brendon relied on Ryan to sort his entire life out, but a lot of it was- well, they enjoyed each other’s company. Even when Brendon didn’t particularly need to see Ryan anymore that day, or at all, he saw him because he wanted to, and if a day went by where he didn’t, the next time he saw Ryan he’d be possibility the clingiest person in the world, wrapping himself around Ryan and only speaking between kisses. Now, though, when he was sulking, something he was very good at, he could only allow himself to gently smile back at Ryan, then he remembered he was supposed to be annoyed at him and straightened up, stiffened, forced the smile away from his face and looked on at him, sullen. He was stubborn, and even if any genuine anger was fading due to the fact he was both very sleepy and too drunk to keep the reason why he was angry clear in his head, he was going to at least try and be persistent.

Hey, hey, whoa, I wasn’t sleeping with you for at least a month in the beginning. Okay, Brendon couldn’t help but giggle at that, and he regarded Ryan from under his eyelashes, mostly low because his eyes were lidded and sleepy. ”Y’remember the first time?” He bit his lip and let his eyes drop down to Ryan’s mouth, forgetting again he was supposed to be angry and instead mourning what this night could have been if- well, if he’s decided to go on this date. Maybe they could have been romantic, and maybe Ryan would be taking his clothes off for a different reason other than putting his drunk ass to bed. Shut up, Brendon. ...Which I guess would just make me a bad hooker. Alright, shut up. Brendon considered this for a second, lifting a hand up to trail from his shoulder to his collarbone and down to the neckline of his shirt, eyes fixed on the fastenings. ”Nah, I’d say you’re a good one. Brendon star of approval. I’ve slept with a lot of people, and not a lot of them get such an honour.” Nodding affirmatively, he then rose, determined to get away.

Something of a hot mess, shirtless with tousled hair and slacks he probably shouldn’t sleep in, half-staggering around his extravagant bedroom and picking up his discarded clothes in some kind of systematic way. Every time he leaned down to pick something up, he threading falling over, but he did it anyway because he hoped Ryan felt bad. Even after all his borderline flattery that probably betrayed the fact that his heart wasn’t in being mad at him anymore. It seemed that he succeeded- Ryan always was a bit of a pushover, sensitive to Brendon’s emotions- good- and Brendon therefore didn’t protest when he turned to find Ryan had followed him, and didn’t pull away when his boyfriend fit his hands around his hips, trailing his fingers along the sensitive skin of just above his waistline. Even so, he tried to stop a smile surfacing, and didn't really manage as it slipped through the cracks on curved the side of his mouth as he looked down at the gesture, remembering suddenly how comfortable he was like this, how safe and and wanted that Ryan made him feel. He reflected distantly on how he was something of a playboy to the public and to any people who wanted his company, but that he never felt desired, not til Ryan. He didn’t know what was up with that.

I feel like you don’t mean that. Well, he was right, and Brendon had more or less dropped his vendetta and was fully ready to stand here cuddling him until he fell asleep in his arms. Well. Except for maybe the last part. I’ll have you know, I’m expensive as hell. Brendon nodded, apparently in full agreement. ”You break my bank. Worth it, though. You’re sexy.” Leaning into his shoulder and grinning against it, he pressed his body even more flush to Ryan’s and curled his arms around him, breathing in against his shirt. He closed his eyes just as Ryan kissed his hair and tried to snuggle even closer when his boyfriend rested his cheek on his head. It was actually still dark in the room, Ryan had been merciful and kept the lights off, and in this environment, darkness, comfortable against Ryan and resting his head on his shoulder, he felt moments away from just falling asleep there in his arms like he wanted to. Luckily, in case of such a situation, it seemed that Ryan was more than capable of all but carrying him to bed. He felt his heart flutter, enamoured, and he wasn’t even looking at him.

I l- Brendon pulled back as Ryan did, waiting for the full response, and was a little confused by the surprise on his face. What? What’d you... He blinked, wrapped his arms around his shoulders in preparation to pull himself closer again, annoyed by the brief distance. ”I love you,” He repeated, like it was obvious, his head tilted back earnestly. He waited as Ryan seemed to come to terms with it and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Brendon was content. I love you, Bren. Well, he sure hoped it was Brendon that he loved, not someone else. And I really hope you’re not too drunk to remember that in the morning. Brendon matched his grin finally with a famous one of his own, extending himself upwards and moving his hands fo cradle Ryan’s jaw so he could kiss him tenderly, eyes fluttering shut and landing a soft, gentle bite to his bottom lip before he trailed kisses off down to the side of his jaw. ”If I am, just tell me again.”

stay afloat || b&r

In a completely different and oddly similar way, Brendon’s life revolves around his father, too. His entire job description involved carrying out exactly what he told him to, and it wasn’t like there were many other career options for an angel in heaven even if they were allowed or capable of taking them. None of this was a bad thing for the throes of angels, of course- they were loyal and subservient to their Father, who treated them with general benevolence, though sometimes more of an indifference. How a master would view a servant- and that was fitting, because that was their arrangement. Brendon wasn’t exactly suffering- that just didn’t happen in heaven- but when he really thought about it, which was rare, he was too busy to stop and consider his environment and where he would spend the rest of eternity, the started to feel entrapped, restless, like a smaller set of angel wings was fluttering furiously in the cage of his heart, desperate to break free. The concept itself felt like a sin, and he immediately came before his Father and confessed feelings of entrapment, boredom, even bitterness towards his life in heaven. He had reprimanded himself for being selfish and self-centred and disrespectful and he swiftly repented, swearing he’d never feel like that again and going back to his duty. Of course, it was easier to say than to do, and every time he went back, letting his wings droop and drag on the ground as a show of subservience, and prayed for forgiveness.

No matter how many times he went back, returning thoughts just seemed to get worse. Ryan’s situation was, again, oddly and eerily similar, though literal worlds apart at the same time. Ryan, from what Brendon knew (which was everything), had a difficult upbringing and an odd family, if his alcoholic and detached father could even count as one. His mother left when he was just an infant and he hadn’t seen her since. Brendon didn’t have a mother either, funnily enough- he hadn’t actually thought about that before now. God, though, was father and mother and brother to them all, so he supposed that was too different a circumstance to compare. Ryan’s father had many flaws, flaws that God apparently didn’t have, but as for being detached and distant, Brendon silently thought about how his Father presented himself, high above his children, above criticism, distant and commanding and severe unless someone bowed their head in prayer. Only then would he take on some of his famed patience and benevolence, when shown the utmost respect and surrendered to completely. Brendon thought about Ryan’s dad, how he’d tried in the beginning, but things had slowly gone downhill until Ryan didn’t have much of a father at all. He wasn’t religious, Brendon knew that- he wondered if converting was on the agenda, then realised he should probably focus on saving his life before he started preaching God’s message all Gabriel-like.

He arrived on Ryan’s doorstep, his head swimming with thoughts about their contrasting and oddly alike situations, trying to dispel the correlation between Ryan’s dad’s downfall and God’s recent shortness of temper from his mind. Brendon felt something odd- a twinge of worry, maybe, that was the word- and he felt his stomach turn over, unused to even the slightest negative emotion, only capable of experiencing neutral or positive ones up in heaven. The slightest thing on earth that caused him pain or suffering felt like a stab in the chest rather than a pinprick, and he wasn’t looking forward to potentially experiencing more of that. He knocked on the door after he contained himself, relaxing his shoulders even though they felt weird without his wings. As soon as Ryan appeared there where the door had been, he felt a surge of affection for not him, but for God; he really had done something different with this one, and Brendon was enamoured with all things aesthetically beautiful. This was next-level for earth, this was striking. He stated obviously, forgetting or just not knowing to experience embarrassment or sheepishness, just blatantly admired him, the line of his jaw, the rich colour of his eyes, the slight curls of his chestnut hair. Brendon’s eyes followed the curve of his mouth and he was still smiling, somewhat taken aback.

Fully distracted, it took him a moment to notice Ryan’s hand held out in front of him, and it took him even longer to know what to do with it. Quickly running through his mental list of human customs that started like this, he rapidly crossed the ones out that didn’t fit the situation. He wondered whether it would be appropriate to take his hand and press the back of it to his mouth as he’d heard of humans doing before when they greeted someone of importance. Ryan was important to him, now, sure, but maybe not important enough to warrant that kind of greeting. He landed unsurely on a handshake, extending his own hand and grasping Ryan’s as firmly as he could. As he did, he looked up curiously to watch and see how his posture changed. Stress in his muscles seemed to melt away as he visibly relaxed. He looked unsettled by the sudden sensation, but Brendon just offered a knowing, mysterious and encouraging smile, mentally noting that frequent contact would probably be good for him. Brendon, angels in general, had the strange and useful ability to calm people down by just being close, relax them completely with the lightest brush of contact. They both dropped their arms back down to their sides and then Brendon delivered his earnest compliment- well. It was more of a statement, coming from an angel, and he wasn’t aware enough to realise he just sounded like an overenthusiastic preacher or a middle-aged religious woman paying compliments to the nice young man who held the door open for her.

Um, thank you. Again, it was more of a statement, so he offered simply a shrug of one shoulder, and then greeted him properly for the first time in like, five minutes of him standing there in the doorway. Ryan. You, too. Brendon stepped past Ryan through the door and into the apartment- it was small, exactly what he expected, but kept in relative good condition considering everything going wrong for Ryan. He figured it was his way of trying to pretend his life was somewhat together. Feel free to look around. Brendon nodded, already doing so, moving to the table and noting the things strewn across it, keys, wallet, et cetera; Ryan was clearly too busy to be that tidy, just clean. Maybe it was a habit picked up from when he was a little younger and he was self-assigned the task of cleaning the entire house. Brendon purses his lips, considering. I'm, uh, not home that often, so you don't have to worry about it being crowded around here. I work a lot. And yet, he still had time to keep this whole place clean- or maybe he just didn’t interact with anything enough for it to become untidy. He turned around to face his new roommate. ”Where do you work?” He already knew that, but. It seemed the reasonable way to respond.

Actually - that's why I needed a roommate: I'm not working as often anymore, hours got cut. I'll be honest with you, I kind of owe the landlady a lot right now. Brendon ran a hand thoughtfully through his hair, pushing it back out of his face and pretending that he was thinking about that predicament, looking sympathetic. But then he shrugged, smiled a little. ”Don’t worry, I’ll have enough money to help with that.” Hopefully that gave him some kind of peace of mind, or whatever- truth was, Brendon had that all covered from the start. He just hoped Ryan would actually believe him. Ryan didn’t seem to listen at first- he had laughed, but not out of humour, and looked away, zoning out for a few seconds. Worried he was stressing himself out or whatever, Brendon ignored the harsh feeling that resonated through his body and spoke up again. ”Just tell me how much you need.”

So, anyway, that's why it's important that if you move in here you can... hold up your end of the deal, and all. Nodding understandingly, hoping his comments from before were reassuring enough, he followed Ryan’s gesture to sit down on a slightly unsteady chair and sat down gracefully, pushing his chair back from the table so he could cross his leg over his knee elegantly, composing himself in this unusual environment. He tilted his head back to gaze around the room, his lips slightly parted, his expression neutral and earnest before he watched Ryan start to toy with his keys. Do you have a job? Tell me about yourself. ”Well, I-“Oh, um- do you want water, or... coffee? He waited for more options, but none came, and he wasn’t really surprised, just giggled a little and rested his elbow on the armrest and his chin in his hand, regarding Ryan with a gentle amusement. ”No, Ry, I think I’m okay.” Shit, maybe he wasn’t supposed to know that he liked to go by that. Shit, he had forgotten to make up his life story and occupation. For a moment he looked distant, racking his brain. ”Uh, I- model. Yeah.”

stay afloat || b&r

So, Brendon’s job wasn’t really as glamorous as it might seem to be- as selfless as it was to throw your entire body and soul (wait, no- Brendon didn’t really have either) into helping another person, no, a human being on earth, one that was struggling so much they needed direct intervention. God was fickle, though, because Brendon was told about people that the others had seen, homeless and starving, struggling with addiction, in their darkest hours, their final days; and yet nobody was sent to help them. Brendon wondered what made one human’s life worth more than another- he’d assisted some train wrecks throughout his existence, but the worst of the worst seemed to be left unnoticed. He did wonder why- but only for a fleeting moment of curiosity- an emotion that quickly faded away. They weren’t meant to be curious, inquisitive, ask questions. They were supposed to serve, unquestionably, loyal to the end and to a fault. Brendon’s mind was overactive for an angels- but even if he wanted to confront the one who commanded all of the entourages of angels around, he couldn’t. Free will, away from earth, where they were temporarily granted that concept of rules and breaking them, almost as a test, was just not a concept or a freedom they had in the first place to be taken away.

So, Brendon’s job was selfless, but it wasn’t like he had a choice whether to do it or not. And he had nothing to give up and nothing to lose- if the rare occasion arose where he failed, he was shielded and protected from any feeling of pain or remorse. As an angel, his basic function was to be a vessel for whatever God wanted to do but couldn’t be bothered doing. So, in order to best fit that function, God took humans and removed their senses of pain and suffering, took away their physical bodies so they were left with heavenly ones, they were granted wings, but not all of them halos. They weren’t all the same age, either; though most of them old as creation, some were created at a later date, and Brendon was one of the more recent ones, maybe a thousand years old. Nothing but a blink of an eye up there- none of them had any concept of time, or age, and many of them saw the signs of aging as suffering. In a way, it was- growing old and dying was punishment for the original sin, carried on the backs of the descendants of the sinners. If Brendon had been anything but a servant with no purpose but to carry out God’s command, he would have questioned why these people were still being punished for the mistakes of two people a few thousand years ago. But, he was a servant. So he simply folded his wings, about as naive and childlike in attitude to the workings of the world as he was spiritually intelligent and ethereal, and listened to what God commanded.

It wasn’t even like he could say he enjoyed What he did, because similarly to how he wasn’t capable of feeling sadness or anger or pain, he was restricted from any sensation of great joy or fondness of anyone but his fellow angels. Brendon was supposed to do anything and everything in his power to assist his charge, to try and repair their life, to view the human as his priority- but he was never to care about them on a personal level. Usually, the best thing to do was to act from afar, interfering when necessary, and never even letting the charge know that anyone was there. With his next assigned person, though, it seemed that wouldn’t be an option. He didn’t take commands directly from God, funnily enough; another angel in charge of distributing cases of struggling humans briefed him about- well, anything and everything there was to know about- ‘Ryan’. Basic details first, name, age, where he lived, family- and then it delved deeper into interpersonal relationships (most of Ryan’s were strained) and his faults, most prominently his self-isolation and reclusiveness, which would make helping him from afar practically impossible. He regarded everything calmly even as a full picture of this man cane to light, a human slinking towards the end of the line. Clearly, god didn’t think it was ‘time’ for Ryan yet. After learning everything he needed to know, he thanked the angel, then, needing no time to prepare (everything would work out once he touched down on the earth), he spread his golden wings and set off immediately, having only really just gotten back from a different charge.

He never had to think about where he was going- when he landed, mere seconds later, in a conveniently empty alleyway, he folded his wings behind his back and they disappeared. Brendon now looked like an ordinary human, having taken on his favoured physical form- maybe otherworldly pretty, but believable, maybe. It wasn’t his choice what he appeared as on earth; he automatically chose a form based on what would best work in association to the charge. He wasn’t sure why this guy needed someone so untouchably beautiful, but he brushed it off when he realised this body was probably about the same age as Ryan was. And it was his favourite, anyway- this was what he felt the most comfortable in. He even secretly used the name that went with it outside of earth- though his name in heaven definitely wasn’t Brendon, he used it in his head. Freedom of thought existed, just not the capability to physically resist orders. Straightening up, he wandered out into the Main Street, not quite sure where he was going- but the first thing he saw was a streetlight post, and to it was stuck a piece of paper- he moved forwards, wincing as he adjusted to the noise of whatever city he was in and pulled the paper- an ad- from the post. Well, this was easier than he thought it would be. This was an ad by Ryan Ready, his Ryan, and he needed a roommate. Well, if that’s what he needed, Brendon could deliver.

His feet knew where to take him once he read the address- even though he was certain he’d never been in this city before. The apartment was, predictably, close by- from what Brendon knew about this guy, he didn’t have the energy or time to go wandering across the city to put ads out all over the place- and once he planted both his feet before the door, he quickly ran over in his head everything that he knew about him. George Ryan Ready, goes by Ryan, early twenties, single, lives alone, works two jobs, couldn’t afford to go to college, 1k in debt. He supposed money was the most obvious material problem, and he hoped that if he sorted that out for him, his work would be done before he had to go into all the proper guardian angel stuff. Well, it wasn’t like they had a guidebook. He knocked on the door tentatively and waited, feeling a little awkward in his body and without his wings. The door opened and Brendon put on his most charming, unintimidating smile, and it faltered a little when he finally met his new priority.

Most humans, Brendon thought, were kind of- boring. Boring looking. The conventionally attractive ones didn’t interest him, others were just plain and didn’t catch the eye of an angel so used to beauty beyond coherency to the human eye. This man, though, made him do a double take- and for a moment he wondered if he’d been sent to the wrong place, was this guy an angel too? A few seconds, though, and he realised that no, he wasn’t, he was just gorgeous, and Brendon marvelled at him openly, looking up to meet his honey-gold eyes, a similar shade to the feathers of his wings. Um. Brendon’s soft smile persisted, as he looked at Ryan like he hung the stars in the sky for them all to appreciate. He liked this guy already. Hey, hi, how are you, you must be Brendon. What? How did he know his name? He hadn’t even called- well, who cared, like he said, everything had a way of working out in his favour. Brendon nodded after a moment, looking down apprehensively at his hand. What was he supposed to do with that again?

Brendon racked his brain through some customs he should probably know by now and after a pause he lifted his arm up to grasp his hand and shake it, all the while staring wondrously at his new favourite human and the most beautiful one he’d ever met. ”God spent extra time on you,” He said after a moment in a soft voice, though he was surprised by his own accent. Anyway. Enough fawning over the charge. ”Yeah, hi, I’m Brendon. Nice to meet you.” Come in. Did you just get to town? He stepped gracefully through the doorway, picking a feather off his shirt and letting it spiral to the floor. ”Yeah, you could say that.”