Nobody refused an invite to one of Gabe’s parties- and Brendon was among the people lucky enough to receive one, though then again, Gabe knew everybody, in the music scene and beyond, and tended to always bring together the right group of people to trigger the right situations. They knew the ins and outs of internal band drama, relationships troubles, the scoops on upcoming albums, the reflections and reviews of latest releases and interband conflicts and tension. If somebody wanted gossip, they’d go to Gabe; it wasn’t like they were malicious, and they never exaggerated anything, they just took enormous interest in affairs that weren’t their own. Brendon, as one of Gabe’s actual friends and not simply there because they’d probably cause the right amount of trouble (or not) depending on what Gabe wanted, should have known that he needn’t even tell his friend that he and Ryan had separated. Everybody knew the band had split, sure, and there was public speculation about Brendon and Ryan’s current state of romantic involvement, but Gabe seemed to know instantly- and Brendon wasn’t aware that Gabe had already cooked up a scheme, inviting the two halves of a splintered band and an ended relationship together to the same party. They were something of an evil genius.

Brendon was blissfully unaware that his ex would be at this party, but at this point, he probably would have attended even armed with the knowledge of Ryan’s presence- they’d run into eachother weeks prior, and had been polite and civil as possible, and Brendon was even starting to wonder why he was ever sad about it in the first place if it was so easy for them to move on. He was confident in his independence and his ability to resist his ex, especially since he was still kind of embarrassed about the given reason for their split; it had been Brendon, in love, but also terrified of the commitment that came with it. He’d rather shamefully broken it off without warning, the seriousness of the relationship taking him by surprise even though he felt so strongly about his boyfriend. In fact, the first month was just plain regret, yearning to be in his arms again- the following weeks were easier, but even now, he wasn’t sure if they could ever go back to being the same, even if that’s what he wanted.

There was no point feeling sorry for himself. The party was apparently ‘themed’- Gabe had messaged him last minute, about two days before- and told him the theme was ‘the roaring 20’s’ and if Brendon didn’t go along with it ‘they’d be very disappointed’. That just meant he wouldn’t be allowed in, or he would and Gabe would make him wear something godawful. Luckily, Brendon was rather willing to oblige to the dress code. He had found some old, slightly ridiculous white shirt that was ruffled at the front, a black waistcoat and slacks, and a possibly-satin bowtie, loose around his neck. He’d slicked his hair back, something he wasn’t used to, and even dug around and found a gold-painted eye mask (that he only wore because it gave him serious ‘cabaret/burlesque/but it’s better if you do vibes), but when he checked himself fully in the mirror, he found that he liked what he saw. Brendon had changed considerably in the past few months- not only had he worked out more (the benefits showed in a much more toned stomach and chest under his intentionally tight shirt), but he generally seemed more put together, less ‘awkwardly pretty’ and more ‘effortlessly mercurial and charming’.

Anyway, it wasn’t long when he got there that he loosened his bowtie fully, cracking his neck to the side and making a beeline towards Gabe’s huge kitchen to make himself a drink with whatever he could find. Gabe’s house was huge, and Brendon decided to familiarise himself with it early in case he passed out somewhere and had to navigate his way to the front door when Gabe inevitably called him an Uber. When he reached the kitchen, though, Gabe all but collided with him- almost dropping the Daiquiri they were holding carefully. They just laughed and offered Brendon the cocktail, which he took, and then hung by their side, leaning against their shoulder. Oh, did I mention? Brendon turned his head lazily to at least look like he was listening. Ryan is here. Or at least, he’s invited. Who knows if he’ll actually turn up.

Brendon, at first, didn’t react, then just rolled his eyes. At this point, he was on his third drink and was pleasantly tipsy, just enough to completely lose whatever filter he weakly claimed he had previously. He just kind of elbowed Gabe, went to get himself another drink, and then wandered back out into the expansive living/dining room, one of several, all conjoined together. And, lo and behold- there stood his ex boyfriend, over by the wall, clutching onto a glass of what was probably rum and coke. The first thing Brendon noticed was that he was so tall. Ryan had definitely grown. His hair, too, had gotten longer, and was actually in place, and Brendon could picture his eye colour from where he was standing.

So, Brendon had instantly given up on any progress he was making getting over his ex and was now fully back to square one- in fact, even worse, because how dare Ryan look so attractive, how dare he be taller, how dare he be so easy and effortless to kiss, how dare he taste sweet, Brendon could remember... Well, he’d managed to resist going over for about thirty seconds before his feet did all the thinking and he was suddenly close enough that if he stepped in further and leaned towards him, even up now, because the height difference was even more obvious up close, they could quite easily be kissing right now. Brendon was proud of himself for resisting. But not for long. ”Hi. You look hot.” He said immediately, grinning charmingly so he could play it off as an acceptable thing to say to his ex. ”I’m mad. You got taller.” Smiling, buzzed enough not to care, he reached up to take hold of his inside of each of the sides of Ryan’s suit jacket, and then slid them down the side before dropping his hands to his sides. ”What brings you here, anyway?”

Ryan was, very clearly, not much of a social person. However, given his moderate success (that was definitely in the past now but people still expected him to be coming up with new work as soon as possible, or something), he was invited everywhere. Not just him, all of his associates, too. At the moment his 'associated act' was just Jon, though, and Jon was arguably as reclusive as him; the little contact he maintained with his childhood best friend mostly consisted of stunted conversations that went, hey, how are you, how's your girlfriend, how's the new music, oh it's coming out soon, that's great, good luck, goodbye, cursory things. He still adored Spencer, but convenience wasn't their friend. When Spencer worked with Brendon it meant he was travelling and far away, and communicating through phones or Skype or whatever was always a hassle. Ryan opted to let distance take over. Then, of course, Brendon.

The world wanted to know if the two of them, always stuck at the hip or screwing around otherwise even when all eyes were on them, were still on speaking terms after the bands' split, oddly moreso than they cared about Ryan talking to his initial best friend. In his head, Ryan wasn't sure how to answer that. What he did know was that he felt a fondness for him still and likely would forever - people who paid enough attention to the band to know that they were pretty clear about having dated thought it must've been messy, given the circumstances. It wasn't at all. Ryan had to make sure people knew that. He's my boy, always will be, and people could take that to mean whatever they wanted. In any case, Ryan had barely spoken to him once since what had felt like the end of the world.

It wasn't really that dramatic, and they all agreed on it needing to happen, anyway. But what felt like his life's work coming apart or at least hitting a bump in the trail at the same time as Brendon telling him he wasn't ready to move forward with him - it did make him go through some type of bereavement period. Creative differences made sense to him. Brendon being uncertain about committing was more surprising. At the start they'd been very much on the same terms - at the cabin, all of their confessions to each other were reciprocated immediately. Then throughout the relationship it seemed like they were equally affectionate, equally invested in it all. Ryan wasn't angry or anything that he'd changed his mind, or maybe he'd just understood a bad feeling he'd had all along, but. Breakups always fucking sucked. Even so he didn't try to convince Brendon otherwise or beg for him to stay, nothing like that. If he wasn't ready or scared or surprised or whatever, then he had a right to it.

Ryan liked to think he was that mature about his response in practice, but in reality he was kind of stupidly teary the entire time; during the band's split he didn't look anyone in the eye and just resignedly nodded at every compromise they made, fully agreeing but unable to express it with any sort of positivity. During the breakup, he again couldn't even look right at Brendon in case any sign of him being upset showed on his face and it garnered some sort of unhelpful pity reaction. And he was sort of in denial for a hot minute. Are you sure, have you thought about it really, y'know. He wasn't trying to trigger any second guesses, but he was also desperate as hell sometimes, so. Anyway. No hard feelings between them or even anyone in the band, in the end.

Despite clearly being out of the music scene for now - he hadn't started a new band yet, he hadn't named himself as a solo artist, he hadn't announced any actual news other than vague promises - he received an invite. Sometimes people only did this for the pictures they could take with him or with the rest of the band, which kind of sucked, and made him wary to come to any in the first place, but this was Gabe. His relationship with Gabe was kind of vague at best. He didn't know any details about their personal life, their likes or dislikes, anything, but he'd heard their music and seen some interviews and had passing conversations with them at ceremonies and events, so of course he knew of their existence and general personality. On the surface, anyway; God knows if they were actually that entertaining all the time. That was his official opinion on them actually: definitely entertaining, definitely charismatic, charming, interesting, what have you. He had no reasons to think of Gabe in a negative light at all, so the invitation seemed innocent, even welcome.

So he came, all reclusiveness in the back of his mind for now (though of course he had ensured Jon was coming in case he needed someone to cling to the whole time). The theme was moderately difficult to keep up with, for him; first of all he could not control his hair for the life of him and the 'sleek' look was very 20's. He eventually settled on a suit with too many pieces he dug out from the back of his closet that he must have worn during the second album, not black but a faded tan, some faint pinstripe pattern. The attempt to actually tame his hair was short-lived, but he at least flattened it down some, got rid of flyaways. So maybe he didn't look particularly sharp, but he definitely looked twenties, all he was missing was a cane. And for no extra money! He thanked everyone who never told him his fashion sense was absolute garbage back then, because now when he actually matched the suit together it had come to use. For the sake of not shocking anyone he took half a second to compare himself to the last time he'd been seen publicly by as many people as he assumed would show up. No major differences. Maybe a little more muscle, definitely at least an inch in height, not that he really needed it. And his features were a little sharper, still boyish but matured anyhow. Ryan decided he likely wasn't going to shock at all.

When he arrived he was interested in finding Gabe to at least greet them, thank them for the invitation, but unfortunately he hadn't been early enough to catch them. Too many people crowded around the entrance to their ridiculous house for him to be noticeable, especially because his 'costume' wasn't as impressive as some people who went all out. Ryan artfully dodged said people, slipping through the clusters of partygoers easily, thankful for once that he had the body shape of, like, a lizard. The destination was obvious: the bar. If he was holding something already then he wouldn't be offered a drink, and he wasn't really keen on getting drunk unless he found someone he was comfortable with to stick by. He ended up making his own rum and Coke in the kitchen while watching someone frantically attempt to wash a stain out of their suit jacket under the faucet. He decided he'd just stick to the walls for a while.

After maybe five minutes of observing, amused, all the varieties of conversation going on around him, Ryan suddenly felt crowded by someone and turned to either get out of their way or be greeted. The answer: kind of neither of those things. Instead he just froze up, staring at Brendon with what felt like a stupid look on his face. Hi. You look hot. He was only halfway through his rum and Coke so he couldn't even hold his drink accountable for the immediate response he thought of: you do too. Brendon could work anything, he'd already learned, but a suit was absolutely the best of all his capabilities. Aside from the outfit itself, though, Brendon just looked slightly different, like he'd grown into himself a little more. And Ryan swore he looked stronger than the almost-waifish Brendon he knew months ago. Not that he meant to let his gaze sweep over Brendon entirely. Fuck. He played it off like he was evaluating the success of his 20's look as best as he could.

"Hey," Ryan managed, and evidently could not get anything else out when Brendon smiled at him like that. "Um. Thanks!" He shrugged his shoulders a little with his words, trying for nonchalant but not quite hiding his surprised state. Was it weird to say the same thing back? Probably. I’m mad. You got taller. "Oh, uh -" Ryan broke off briefly, watched him reach out and explore his suit jacket at the edges, startled but kind of not bothered at all. He tried to quickly talk over whatever the hell was happening there. "I guess - a little. Maybe you got shorter." He smiled tentatively. That definitely didn't equal the amount of flirting Brendon was giving him, but he couldn't bring up the courage to voice any of the complimentary thoughts floating around his head. He punctuated his response by quickly drinking more of his concoction, thanking past him for making it a rather unequal split between the rum and the Coke, preference to the alcohol.

He was buzzing not from drinking but from sort of hesitant affection by the time Brendon's hands dropped again, and it took everything not to just reassure him it was okay to touch. Definitely weird - he should know how to deal with seeing an ex by now, considering he had plenty. What brings you here, anyway? "More like who. The best of the best," he said, nodding to Gabe, who'd conveniently come into view in the distance and briefly had an eye on them. Or Ryan thought they did, anyway. "I was surprised, actually. Not many people are interested since I'm not, like, active anymore. Did they invite you too?" A brief distraction from whatever was resurfacing with Brendon, he thought distantly that maybe if Brendon had been invited rather than crashing, Spencer might have come too. Would be nice to reconnect, if that was the case.

He wasn't really closely listening to Brendon's answer, though, because something in his head was nagging that he couldn't just let Brendon flatter him ten times in two seconds without making any reference to how much Brendon looking as good as he did made his chest ache. "You, um - you look really good. You look like you walked out of a Gatsby party, really." He was grinning, just slightly warm enough from the rum that he didn't care how lame that sounded, and was more glad he said anything nice at all without it feeling awkward.

Though his musical career alongside Jon and Ryan was gone, it wasn’t like Brendon had hit a stop completely- in fact, to what he knew would be a very mixed reaction, he had plans to continue under the same band name with Spencer. His friend (Ryan’s best friend- formally? Brendon felt a little strange about taking Ryan’s childhood best friend with him, while Ryan had ‘kept’ Jon) had some doubts about doing so, seeing as Brendon’s grand scheme involved taking some of Ryan’s unfinished lyrics and modifying old demos into semi-new songs he could call his own. Brendon didn’t see wha was wrong with it- it wasn’t a Ryan Ready song, it was a Panic song- but Spencer kind of hinted he thought it was wrong, that it was basically stealing and giving no credit, so Brendon met him halfway and said he’d make sure to give his ex boyfriend credit on the lyric booklet or whatever. In any case, Brendon was ready to move on.

It had been difficult, because at the time of the breakup, he still felt as strongly about Ryan as he had in the beginning, and there were lots of things he missed- the attention and affection that Ryan seemed to have disposable amounts of, Ryan singing beside him on stage, even sometimes the taste of his lips and the sound of his laugh, memories he kind of pushed back with an inner eye roll. They were just separated- it wasn’t like Ryan was dead. Now, though, he’d thought he’d moved on; he had plans for his career moving forward, Spencer was still steadfast by his side, and he had friends like Gabe inviting him to unnecessarily themed parties every other week for no reason other than to keep their reputation. Gabe was a good friend- though Brendon still kind of knew nothing about them, he did know they were the kind of friend to take care of him if he passed out on the couch or something, and be a sympathetic ear with maybe too much to say about other people’s business.

Or at least, Brendon had thought he’d been over Ryan. If he had been less tipsy, he could have probably resisted even going over, but after a few drinks his common sense kind of drained neatly away, and he wasn’t listening to his brain anymore. He was semi-driven by his heart, aching a little at how good his ex looked, but also felt physically drawn over there, deciding that no matter what, he knew what he wanted the outcome of tonight to be in just a few moments. After quickly locating and picking up his drink, he made his way over, wondering distantly whether he looked sort of ridiculous. Oh well. He could make it work. Anyway, he was amused by Ryan’s ‘deer-caught-in-headlights’ reaction, and quickly found somewhere to put his drink down after he took a last sip. He reached up, then, taking off his dumb mask and placing it down by his drink. Now he could see better. Brendon met his eyes briefly and felt a little electrified, however dramatic that sounded.

Hey. Smooth. Brendon grinned. Um. Thanks! ”You’re welcome,” Came his immediate response, and he carried on saying everything on his mind, even letting his tactile senses catch on as he explored Ryan’s suit a little, dropping attention from his face momentarily. Then his hands fell to his sides and he exhaled as if satisfied, but his hands urged him to just not let go next time. I guess- a little. Maybe you got shorter. Brendon laughed, shrugging his shoulders, now kind of distracted by Ryan’s mouth. It was kind of ridiculous how he didn’t even care that Ryan noticed- in fact, that’s what he wanted. Ryan’s attention. It seemed he had already seized it. More like who. The best of the best. He nodded quickly, glancing over at Gabe and back at Ryan and then finally clicking. Wow. Gabe had definitely planned that they run into eachother. He vowed to get them later.

I was surprised, actually. Not many people are interested since i’m not, like, active anymore. Did they invite you too? ”No, I crashed the party,” They declared, flashing Ryan another smile. ”Yeah, I was. Me, Spencer... Dallon.” He forgot Ryan didn’t know who Dallon was. He just let it remain a mystery. You, um- you look really good. You look like you just walked out of a Gatsby party, really. Flattered, He splayed a hand across his own chest and tilted his head. ”Thank you. I try,” Brendon said absently, but he was looking Ryan clearly up and down, sighing and trailing his fingers down his ex’s arm. ”You’re so tall. Fuck me,” He breathed, then let Ryan process it, only distantly wondering whether that was at all appropriate. Then he broke into a smile. ”Kidding.” He wasn’t.

The idea of Brendon and Spencer ultimately taking the band name was something Ryan at first very strongly opposed. In fact he hadn't heard about it until after the fact, and he didn't really get it because they weren't Panic anymore, were they? But it made sense the more he thought about it. First of all - although the two remaining members probably didn't care about it that much - it carried all the recognition and fame. It was more difficult to make fans follow you to your next band, and therefore there was no guarantee you'd have even half the success of the old band. Second, they were playing the most similar music to what Panic had initially sounded like, or at least that's what the direction they were headed in seemed like. It's not like the two albums already out were totally cohesive, but they flowed in an odd way, separate but equal worlds. Ryan's ever-changing inspiration and style didn't seem to fit that narrative. So, he didn't harbor any negativity over that aspect of the split, either.

Despite being sort of shocked at seeing Brendon again without expecting him at all (or at least not by himself, and not out of nowhere), just a first glance at him alone was enough to make every old feeling resurface. Maybe not entirely, not at quite the strength they'd been before, but still - Ryan could remember the times when it only took Brendon entering the room for his mood to instantly improve a substantial amount. Or when he'd feel a sort of loss whenever he was somewhere without Brendon at his side (and the recurrence of him wondering what Brendon was doing, how he was, etc). Or the way Brendon looked when Ryan woke up beside him and before him, having separated from clinging together the night before, with his eyelashes dark against his skin and his expression peaceful and his breathing steady. Really, it was weird to have known him so intimately and now only feel it appropriate to treat him with just... politeness. Like the past was no big deal. Ryan consoled himself with the idea that maybe he'd get over it in a couple more months.

But, apparently, Ryan was the only one who felt such reservations. For the past two minutes all Brendon had done was flatter him and flirt, which was nice and all, but Ryan didn't know what boundaries had been established by the passage of time. Was Brendon just drunk and didn't really mean any of it? He was pretty well-coordinated and didn't seem to be slurring, so it sounded like he was just slightly ahead of Ryan in terms of alcohol consumed thus far. It occurred to him that he was actually familiar with how a tipsy Brendon worked, and, yeah, he totally lost his filter. Ryan wasn't sure whether he should respect sober Brendon's probable wish that he hadn't approached Ryan at all, or if he should just give in to the charm. Mostly, though, Ryan was very susceptible to the glass of what'd basically been rum with a dash of Coke mixed in, so he couldn't bring himself to come up with the right thing to do in this situation.

He was forced to instead rely on whatever words came out without a connection to his brain, which could only feasibly be slightly more embarrassing than how he normally talked - he doubted he could get any worse. No, I crashed the party. Ryan was gullible enough in the moment to almost give him an 'are you crazy' look before he read Brendon's grin. And was taken aback by it, kind of. He had yet to meet someone with a better smile than Brendon, actually. Fuck. Maybe he shouldn't've come in the first place. Yeah, I was. Me, Spencer... Dallon. So Spencer was here. Ryan's face briefly betrayed him while he nodded, a hint of longing to see his old best friend again, but he didn't even know what they would talk about or how they would reconnect in the middle of a busy party. The thought passed quickly. This new name, Dallon, however, preyed on Ryan's natural insecurity for half a second where he thought maybe Brendon had found someone else already - and then he realized he was an idiot, because of course Brendon wouldn't be acting the way he was if he was exclusive with someone.

Thank you. I try. Didn't sound like he was listening, actually. Ryan kind of laughed at his lack of focus, bringing his glass up to cover his amusement, just as Brendon decided he had to be tactile again. Ryan considered it for a second, then finally finished the drink hovering before his lips and abandoned it on the nearest available surface beside Brendon's mask. You’re so tall. Fuck me. The look on Brendon's face read like he was being wholly serious, but Ryan only forced another small laugh, not sure how to react to all of this still. Part of him, the stupidest part at that, wanted to say something like 'you're the one who broke up with me'; the other wanted to take the risk that Brendon wouldn't even want anything serious again and just go with his flirtatious behavior. Kidding. That was too long a pause, Ryan decided, and then he wasn't thinking at all. "Are you, though? I mean, it wouldn't be the first time." He returned Brendon's smile, a little more conspicuously, and promptly lost the nerve to hold eye contact after saying that.

Still. He'd decided not to care about the possible implications behind all of this and thanked the gradually more effective Bacardi. "I didn't know you had such a thing for tall guys," he said speculatively, and realized distantly that he'd been fixing his normally godawful posture ever since Brendon first commented on his height. Definitely screwed. "Glad you do, because I think you're gorgeous." He managed to look at Brendon longer than three seconds this time, truly meaning it, and barely holding back from saying 'still' before 'think.' That'd definitely shift the mood, right? He had no idea. In any case it felt like he needed to get even with Brendon quickly, and he had plenty of things to say, just none of the nerve to say any of it to his face. Not fair - Brendon had no problem literally saying 'fuck me' like that and Ryan felt awkward following in Cady Heron's footsteps telling him his hair looked sexy pushed back, or something.

Okay, so Brendon hadn’t asked Ryan or Spencer if they minded that he and Spencer carry on with the same brand without them (mostly because he knew what the answer would be anyway), and he didn’t ask Ryan if he could use his lyrics, but again- he stood by the belief that these weren’t just Ryan’s lyrics, he wrote them for a band, and if suddenly he wanted to pull the ‘I wrote them’ card, he was never much part of the band in the first place; and Brendon was under the impression the band had been equally all of theirs. Now Jon and Ryan were just doing something else. Brendon was perhaps a little salty, and driven by the bitterness that kind of grew from the surprise that Ryan didn’t seem all too torn up when Brendon ended it (not that he wanted anyone to be upset, but he felt a lot more pain than Ryan appeared to, and he liked to feel appreciated. Even by a newly-ex boyfriend). Luckily for Brendon and Spencer, they’d come across a new friend- Dallon- who would take Jon’s place as bassist. They had yet to find a lead guitarist, and Brendon was kind of having his own personal difficulties with that anyway. He didn’t know if he could stand somebody else playing beside him.

Now, Dallon was just a friend, but he could tell by the look on Ryan’s face that the way he left his role a mystery, it left some open questions. He was almost prompted to raise an eyebrow- did Ryan really think he’d be acting like this if he was exclusive with someone else- but then the look passed and Brendon relaxed, smiling easily again. Even though he seemed effortlessly put together and charming, Brendon’s heart was still aching. He silently cursed at his past self for ever ruining this just because of his childish issues with commitment that he couldn’t even find a viable root from which that grew. He did think about it maybe being a product of his religious parents, and the complications that came with that, but Brendon dismissed his own thoughts, convinced he was looking way too deep.

Anyway. Brendon was fully ready to go back on everything he said those months ago, because Ryan looked so damn good and he realised, kind of belatedly, but with reluctant acceptance, that he was definitely still in love. Luckily, even tipsy him was able to keep that to himself- even if it was only prolonging the inevitable confession. Brendon decided he’d probably have to keep his mouth busy with something other than talking if he was to keep his own dignity. He eyed Ryan’s mouth, then tore his gaze away and flashed him another, seemingly consistent, wide smile. Watching as Ryan brought his glass up to his lips, he was kind of stuck with what to say, because there were plenty of things in his head that the remaining slivers of common sense were holding onto like a vice. But Brendon was a pretty shameless person anyway- he tended to ignore common sense.

So, when he said something he definitely didn’t mean as a joke, for a few moments he just looked at Ryan, gauging his reaction, which was a small, forced laugh. To potentially save the situation, he followed it up with a half-assed ‘kidding’. He really, really wasn’t. And luckily, or not, depending on your viewpoint, Ryan knew that. Are you, though? I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time. They made eye contact briefly, and Brendon’s breath caught in his throat, kind of astounded. He took a moment to recover, laughing slightly, but one of his hands was still playing with the inside of Ryan’s suit, looking down to watch his fingers and then up again to exhale. ”Hopefully not the last,” Was all he said, not even smiling, just kind of intense, looking up at him through his eyelashes because he was so tall. Brendon was barely keeping it together.

I didn’t know you had such a thing for tall guys. “Lucky you,”Brendon responded immediately, but then smiled. ”Are you kidding? When I first met Dallon-” He dragged his eyes away briefly to turn and point him out on the other side of the room (luckily he hadn’t noticed Brendon with his ex, yet, and come to rescue him from being an idiot)- “I had the hugest crush on him, mostly because he’s, like, 6’4.” Of course, not any more. Brendon, apparently, didn’t have the capacity to like other people when he was still in love with his ex. Who’d have thought.

Glad you do, because I think you’re gorgeous. Enamoured, Brendon turned, stepping a little closer and looking up again. It would be so easy- and so hard- to just lean up and kiss him, even if he was, like, an inch taller, but Brendon miraculously excersised some form of willpower and just imagined it instead. It took him a few moments to formulate a reply, which was punctuated by one of his arms folding across his chest in a effort to keep his damn hands to himself. “Nothing’s changed, then,” He said speculatively- referring to mutual attraction, Brendon’s affinity for tall guys, and the fact that he was definitely still and love and that feeling refused to go away.

Brendon’s sudden change of heart - or that’s what Ryan interpreted it to be, anyway - wasn’t unfounded at all, and actually when he was finally able to look at the situation in retrospect, Ryan found that he felt sort of the same. Not all the time, and not deeply enough to initiate a breakup himself, but there were rare occasions where he got scared. They were virtually just out of high school, even more true for Brendon than it was for him. The overwhelming success of the band was one thing. Usually it was a good kind of terrifying, exhilerating, unless he spent too long thinking about how total strangers knew him and recognized him and made assumptions about him. But a relationship that appeared as serious as his and Brendon’s was becoming was a different story - they could continue to stay together until so much time had passed that breaking up would prove to be way more crushing than it had to be, or they could stay together, no breakups involved. The prospect of committing to something like that when he couldn’t even commit to attending university was daunting.

The difference was still that Ryan wasn’t affected by that fear frequently enough, or for long enough periods of time, to end things. That didn’t mean he wasn’t totally an idiot the entire time Brendon was working through his little speech; Ryan ignored his valid reasoning and instead got stuck in his own head, thinking maybe Brendon just didn’t want to commit to him rather than at all. Or, on a smaller scale of suspicion, that Brendon was coming up with a more civil-sounding reason to end things and he was actually just over Ryan. That was a quickly ignored insecurity. After all, Brendon was fairly obvious about the fact that he did love Ryan, even if he eventually got intimidated by it or fell out of love altogether. Ryan was pretty sure both of them still loved each other at the end, too. Unfortunate, but he had no control over how Brendon felt, so he didn’t bother mentioning that when it was all happening.

And, admittedly, Ryan kept those feelings for the longest time, and they were buried over the months enough for him to ignore it, sort of. When he was face to face with Brendon like this, and felt the slide of his fingers along his suit jacket, it was hard to pretend he only felt anything platonic towards Brendon. From the looks of things, Brendon was at least reciprocating - but he was so open and unguarded about it that Ryan wasn’t sure whether to admire his everlasting confidence or be suspicious about his intentions. The latter option was unfair as hell and didn’t speak to Brendon’s character, so he brushed it off easily. Hopefully not the last. Okay - so they were definitely on the same page. Ryan’s mouth went dry, his smile fading when he realised Brendon’s was gone, and suddenly he was sick of screwing around, circling the subtext without addressing it directly. He had the patience the first time it was like this between them, but now with the knowledge of how well they worked together, he wasn’t as afraid.

Lucky you. Very fucking lucky. Ryan was pretty resigned to the fact that he had few other redeeming qualities. Are you kidding? When I first met Dallon- Ryan instantly followed his gaze and the gesture towards the Dallon in question. Keeping his cool as best he could on his face, Ryan let the internal tantrum over how attractive the new bassist actually was ensue. I had the hugest crush on him, mostly because he’s, like, 6’4. Ryan laughed a little, managed it, but not much more because he was apparently this prone to jealousy. It’s not like there was anything to be jealous of - he said ‘had.’ And also here Brendon was, with him and not the bassist, yet Ryan couldn’t squash the spark of completely irrational jealousy that arose. Whatever; Spencer would probably object to another inter-band relationship after his last experience with it.

”Understandable, actually,” he said after a pause, because even if he was being ridiculous, he could admit that Dallon was cute as hell. He turned with Brendon, finding it increasingly easy to ignore the sounds of the party around them when they were this close. Nothing’s changed, then. Ryan pursed his lips, knowing that there was more meaning to that response than the sound of it implied, and he considered what could happen if he actually confronted what was happening head-on. Maybe he should wait longer than, like, ten minutes to tell Brendon he was still interested, but what was the point? They wouldn’t stay in contact after this party if they ended on a ‘we’ll keep being friends’ note, just because that was too hard, at least on Ryan. And everyone said that when they broke up - it never held true.

Despite the double meaning, Ryan smiled fondly at Brendon’s words, wondering at the contrast between how quickly things changed with them when they started dating, and when they stopped, nothing changed. A little backwards, but they tended to be that way, anyway. ”Hey,” he said, suddenly with complete clarity, and stepped closer with a hand on Brendon’s shoulder so he didn’t have to speak quite as loudly. ”I missed you. A lot.” It wasn’t sad sounding or anything - in fact it looked like he was more focused on the positive circumstances where they’d connected again. ”It’s been weird without you. It was worse in the beginning, but it’s like everything’s kind of... off.” And he’d initially thought the ‘world thrown off balance’ thing would eventually go away. No such luck. ”You’re here, and I feel a little normal again.”

It had been after their second album that Brendon realised things were moving too fast for him to be comfortable, that he was getting older than he could stand already, and the intensity of his feelings towards Ryan threw him completely off balance. He was still young- too young, you could say, to he the frontman of a band with their level of success- and he wanted to stay like that, experience everything youth had to offer, and he came to the reluctant conclusion that staying in this relationship but jeopardise that. Brendon wasn’t right, of course, but to his inexperience with relationships, the future looked kind of bleak. If they were this in love, a future fight or breakup would be just as intense and hard-hitting; that, or they’d just carry on, and Brendon wasn’t sure whether he was ready for that kind of commitment. It was funny, really- he didn’t tend to over think things; that, ironically, was Ryan’s forte. But he still wasn’t sure how Ryan really felt about it all, because he’d mostly just stayed quiet.

The breakup itself would have been difficult anyway, but it was even more of a struggle because Brendon still wasn’t sure why he was breaking up with Ryan in the first place. Out loud, he knew saying ‘I don’t want to be shackled to anyone yet’ (of course he wasn’t shackled to Ryan, he’d just been told by some of his other friends that being in such a committed, long-term relationship so young was like a jail sentence) sounded ridiculous and kind of insensitive out loud. And it was. Brendon was just too caught up in his anxiety and apprehension for the future that he didn’t stop to breathe, or think, or actually weigh up his options rather than turning up to Ryan one day and trying to let him down as gently as he could. Luckily, there was no drama, really- Ryan was obviously stricken by the unexpectedness of this revelation, but he didn’t really protest. Brendon would be lying if he said that didn’t annoy him slightly- no arguments surely meant he never really cared in the first place. Telling himself that made it easier to sever the ties.

But he was still in love, and that fact became painfully obvious once he was this close to Ryan again. Brendon wasn’t ashamed of letting his evidently consistent attraction to his ex-boyfriend known, because shit, he was pretty, and fuck, he was tall. What was even better was that Ryan returned the attention and the air between them was kind of thick, almost electric. The tension was there, again, like that evening in front of the cabin, but it was familiar this time, and accompanied by a profound passion and longing that Brendon really was not trying to conceal. They were on the same page, Brendon was barely keeping it together, what were they doing? Why hadn’t they kissed and made up already? The question was almost raised, but Brendon kept quiet, before impulsively deciding to just change the subject because the tension was killing him.

Understandable, actually. Suppressing the raise on an eyebrow, and turning again to study Dallon across the room, he noted that Ryan agreed with him, but wondered whether his ex was trying to get a reaction. ”Oh, you agree?” He had succeeded. Though Dallon was cute, undeniably, the fact that Ryan pointed that out... Brendon felt himself straighten as much as possible, and when he had Ryan’s attention again, he bit his lip, trying not to say anything too embarrassing and instead attempting to regain Ryan’s full attention. He still knew the things that made Ryan weak- that seemingly casual, fully intentional lip bite was one of them. Ryan was something of a sucker and Brendon was somewhat evil.

Hey. The sudden noise made him jump, and he laughed slightly at his own reaction, before it died at the back of his throat because Ryan had touched him. His mind drifted to some unsavoury places. I missed you. A lot. Brendon felt himself warm up. He missed him too. They fit so well together, even after all this time. It’s been weird without you. It was worse in the beginning, but it’s like everything’s kind of... off. Brendon grinned. The alcohol he had consumed previous had now fully reached him, and though his common sense told him this was a serious moment he shouldn’t ruin, his lack of filter made him just impulsively speak. ”You’re right. I am very sexually frustrated.” He was dead serious for a moment, then cracked up, if only as an afterthought. ”No, but, I- I missed you too.”

You’re here, and I feel a little normal again. It was the same for Brendon. Without Ryan, nothing really felt right, and his life was a little... Lacking. They were so close now. Brendon hung onto Ryan’s tie, this time, looking up at him through his dark eyelashes. It would be so painfully easy and the urge was killing him. ”...Me too. Where have you been all my life?” He teased, but then he was at a loss of what to do. Brendon just hesitated for a moment, his head kind of clouded. He felt the need to fill even the momentary silence, but couldn’t think of something to say.

There was something a little frustrating about the way Brendon could simultaneously be one of, if not the most extroverted person Ryan ever met, with little reservations or social shortcomings, and then have this much trouble getting to the point. To be fair, Ryan didn't really want there to be a point here, or at least he wasn't conscious of what that hypothetical point should be. But there was still something both of them were circling around, avoiding confrontation with, and it was indescribable despite being so tangible; neither of them had even mentioned the breakup yet. In fact, it looked like they hadn't even broken up, from an outside perspective. If Ryan was just another partygoer and he saw their body language or heard the unwithheld flirting that passed between them, he definitely couldn't have guessed that they ever broke up with one another. So maybe he wasn't just frustrated with Brendon, here, and it actually extended to himself.

It was hard to even talk about this newfound Dallon after the first mention of him but Ryan entertained the conversation anyway, trying desperately to seem nonchalant about the fact that the newest replacement member of his old band looked like that. And evidently he was talented enough to get through both Brendon's and Spencer's scrutiny. It wasn't a competition, Ryan knew that rationally, but... maybe he was a little insecure. Oh, you agree? His acting skills sort of faltered when he nodded with pursed lips, trying not to give way to too heavy a reaction, but it didn't matter for long. The new bassist became a thing of the past when he looked back at Brendon to gauge his expression, which, really, he must've known what he was doing. Ryan's gaze was immediately drawn to Brendon's lips, one trapped between his teeth, and tried to look anywhere else except the rest of him had about the same effect. Ryan stared for a good three seconds, looking caught off-guard as ever, before he could finally drag his attention away, face flushed.

Luckily it seemed the magnetism between them was in fact not one-sided, and Ryan could ween similar responses out of Brendon. It was a weird back-and-forth, but considering their current state was 'dumper/dumpee' he oddly felt like he had something to make up for. This time all he had to say was hey and Brendon seemed taken aback simply by the even shorter proximity between them (which, in all fairness, kind of made Ryan feel electric, too). He smiled at the reaction, his hand on Brendon's shoulder squeezing in what meant to be a comforting display. The more he spoke, the more nervous he got about how Brendon might feel about what he said, though; it turned out to be an unnecessary concern, considering all Brendon did was smile back at him. Ryan probably would've stopped after 'I miss you' had it not been for that. Something about his grin was validating, brought him more warmth than any of the rum & Coke in the world could.

But of course, Ryan was the only one out of the two of them who could maintain somewhat of an air of seriousness for very long. You’re right. I am very sexually frustrated. He arched an eyebrow, waiting for Brendon to laugh before he cracked up too, shaking his head at him in feigned disbelief. No, but, I- I missed you too. The disbelief turned to fondness, and he studied Brendon for a moment, trying to re-memorize his features now that they'd changed even minutely. He let his head lazily dip a little, drawn by the way Brendon hung onto his tie, and to reciprocate he absently let his last remaining free hand hook by the fingertips onto Brendon's jacket pocket. Yeah, definitely a condemning way to look from an outsider's perspective. ...Me too. Where have you been all my life? Ryan's lips parted slightly, prepared to accidentally say something completely cliche like 'right here' - it was pretty much truth, anyway - before losing the courage.

He held Brendon's gaze for a moment longer, feeling a faint urgency but being unable to do anything about it. And then he abandoned every want and wish that inhabited the back of his mind in favor of picking up Brendon's mask for him, wisely abandoning their glasses, and backing up, attempting to lead both of them back to Gabe's overstocked bar. He removed his hands from Brendon's shoulder and his suit jacket but placed a guiding hand on the small of his back while he leaned in to talk over the sound of screamed conversations and radio music. "I think I need another drink. You're definitely ahead of me," he said with vague amusement, slightly disappointed in his own quick escape, but it was true that he had a grave need for another drink. He thought distantly that he probably wasn't going to let Brendon have another, all things considered, but. That was kind of out of his control, in the end.

There were few stragglers hanging around the kitchen at this point, everyone having already been served unless they were just glued to the bar. He picked up a Solo cup, ever the stereotype, and separated himself from Brendon to pour out whatever was nearest. Coconut rum. Apparently there was a theme for tonight. He added the obvious mixer before leaning against the available counter space, the cup already at his lips. He was avoiding Brendon's gaze again, his eyes fixed on the floor instead, one arm crossed over his chest to support the other that hovered near his face holding the drink. "Also, dating other people sucks, after you. Very inconsiderate of you to be the best I've ever had," he joked, ten times more genuine sounding about it this time, but there was more than some truth to it. Either way he was grinning at Brendon again like they had some shared injoke, sipping again at his drink.

He sucked in a breath, noting with vague alarm that he was already halfway done again before setting the cup down beside him. Ryan put his palms on the counter and lifted himself a little before letting his heels touch the ground again, wondering once more why he couldn't just. Be direct. "Question," he said, beckoning Brendon back over to him by reaching out, trying to pull him close again. "How sober are you? I - I don't know if... maybe this isn't the best timing for me to... say something serious. Which I need to do. Do you mind?" A little cheesy for him to start off like that. 'Can I ask you a question' rather than posing the question outright, that sort of thing - then again, they were being consistent in their lack of any real approach.

Even though physically, Brendon was at Gabe’s dumb party, wearing a dumb outfit and drinking some fancy drinks he didn’t know the names of, in his head he was somewhere else, in a universe where he’d sucked it up and not bolted from the most meaningful relationship he’d ever had just because he had been momentarily skittish and then overreacted. Brendon was daydreaming about a situation where they were still together, and maybe kissing in the corner rather than dancing awkwardly around the elephant in the room, or even staying at home instead and giving this party (and Gabe) the cold shoulder entirely. That would be much more favourable than this, the crushing tension between them, the sense of urgency he felt- like this was his last shot. For what? Brendon wasn’t sure. Even he didn’t have the audacity to just straight up ask the person he dumped to give him a second chance. Not directly, anyway- the subtext was still definitely there, and it was undeniable. The spark still existed and the fire hadn’t gone out.

Then again, maybe it was good to be apart for a while, to gain so perspective, to fully realise how much Ryan meant to him. He was doing just fine without them, then he saw his face- and he had fallen again, just as hard, and this time there was history and memories and love and Brendon couldn’t look at him without a montage of their relationship playing through his head. It was so strange to have been with someone in so many ways, so intimately, and then having to behave so normally. Not that Brendon actually did behave like was probably acceptable for someone to act with their ex, but then Brendon had never really cared what was ‘acceptable’. That was why he was fully putting his knowledge of what made Ryan weak at the knees, so to speak, to the test; and Ryan was falling for it in a way that was kind of endearing. Three solid counts of Mississippi were all it took for Ryan to manage to drag his eyes away from Brendon’s mouth.

They were so close, now, and Brendon was buzzed enough that his common sense and filter had basically crumbled, so to him, it was perfectly acceptable to talk about libido with an ex-boyfriend, even if it was a joke. Ryan’s expression told him that he still hadn’t com to expect some of the things that came out of Brendon’s mouth, no matter how well he knew him. He was clinging on to Ryan’s tie, making eye contact and almost willing him silently to make a fucking move like he had been sub-textually begging him to do for their entire reunion. For a moment, he was sure it was going to happen, and his breath caught in his throat- but then Ryan was moving back. Brendon’s grip on the tie slackened and his hands fell to his sides. For a moment, he mourned the loss; but suddenly Ryan’s hand was against the small of his back and nothing had ever felt so simultaneously comforting and electrifying all at once. It seemed that Brendon had conveniently forgotten exactly what Ryan could do to him- even after all this time.

I think I need another drink. You’re definitely ahead of me. Brendon wasn’t really listening, just nodded faintly and allowed himself to be guided towards the kitchen, silently praying it was empty- but apparently the universe was cruel and there were, albeit few, people around. He cursed silently, and mourned again the loss of closeness between them as Ryan moved away to make himself a drink. Brendon didn’t shift his attention the entire time, watching until Ryan turned back around, leaning against the counter. Also, dating other people sucks, after you. Very inconsiderate of you to be the best I’ve ever had. Trying his best to look apologetic, Brendon lifted his shoulders helplessly, already impressive confidence skyrocketing because he was the best, Ryan had said it himself. Not that he had any doubts to begin with. Brendon exhaled. Keep it together. ”What can I say?” A pause. ”Same here. Nobody else- nobody knows me like you did. Nothing feels as comfortable, or as good- we just. Fit.” He wasn’t sure if he was making any sense. Distantly, he told himself to just shut up, and was saved by Ryan speaking.

Question. “Hit me,” He replied instantly, letting Ryan pull him closer again, again feeling a Rush because he was too tall than was actually fair, now. How sober are you? I - I don't know if... maybe this isn't the best timing for me to... say something serious. Which I need to do. Do you mind? Something serious? Was he dying or something? Brendon let his head tilt, questioningly, but then forgot what he was going to ask. ”Just buzzed. Pretty much sober,” Came his respones, and suddenly there was nervous apprehension. Fuck. Why hadn’t Ryan just taken initiative and kissed him? He could have done it immediately upon their reunity, and Brendon would have welcomed it. Now he was almost thirsty for it again, after all this time. Worth the wait.

He'd realised, somewhat belatedly, that although he certainly would have liked to have spent the past few weeks with Brendon, their relationship uninterrupted, maybe it was best that they got some space. Ryan got the opportunity to find out that, yes, everyone else in the world was so boring when they weren't Brendon, when they weren't composed of 90% talent, when they didn't just know Ryan the way Brendon seemed to since the first second they saw each other. It sucked, basically. He took some time to himself, too, to figure out if he was just more of the lonely type, but after a few nights in his apartment with no one there to ground him, Ryan came to the conclusion that he was a little goddamn crazy. Was it wise to want to suck Brendon back into a life where he had to always observe his neuroses? Maybe not. But Ryan was kind of selfish, anyway.

And, clearly, both of them had gone through their own personal evolution. Ryan hadn't asked but he assumed maybe Brendon had tried dating other people, too - and he did know that Brendon entertained a brief crush on that bassist, Dallon, so he was capable of interest in other people, but evidently nothing more. Plus, Ryan found it a little funny that his 'type' was rather specific, like he'd inspired it or something. Tall and built like a straight-up spaghetti noodle, an untidy mop of brown hair, rather awkward party behavior (as he'd noted that Dallon, too, looked entirely out of place from the more sociable people around him) - it was all very convenient. Embarrassingly, Ryan probably would've been the same about Brendon if anyone had cropped up that even vaguely matched his description. Hadn't happened. His uniqueness was a blessing and a curse; it was good that no stranger had reminded him of all the old times, but it became even harder to see him again without dumbly confessing his surviving affection.

So maybe time was good. It was a self-discovery period, or something like that (though Ryan was fairly certain most people took much longer for those). Now he was kind of over the perpetual feeling of loneliness and something being 'off,' buried deep enough that he was functioning anyway, but that surfaced almost immediately once Brendon had initially approached him here. He was dumbly stuck in their weird little world in the corner of the party where they flirted constantly and the subtext that nearly matched the cabin's was almost physically painful to ignore. Then again, 'ignore' was probably not the best word; if he ignored his feelings and the depth of the circumstances and any connection they may have had, then he'd be in the midst of a polite and normal conversation rather than behaving the way he had been. His trip back to the bar was sort of a dodge out of their close encounter but also an effort to gain some liquid courage, because apparently he couldn't just muster it up himself.

What can I say? Ryan smiled at his showmanship, the familiarity soothing, but after a pause Brendon seemed to let his guard down somewhat. Same here. Nobody else- nobody knows like you did. Nothing feels as comfortable, or as good- we just. Fit. Ryan was grateful that he wasn't alone in that feeling, but then he'd never want Brendon to feel that way. It was a little isolating if you couldn't distract yourself with something, and it seemed like Brendon had so there was nothing to worry about, but. Still. His instinct was to protect Brendon from all the bad stuff, and yet they both had to go through that. He quickly tried to move on so he didn't have to dwell on it too long, not gracing Brendon's words with a verbal answer but nodding meaningfully. He'd already said his part, anyway.

He knew what Brendon had been anticipating, back where they had stood before, and of course he longed for the same. But they always started things off on the wrong foot; he wanted to do it right for once. Maybe it was stupid to interrupt a tradition like that, but he didn't want to waste any time recalibrating. Nice to know that he possessed the superhuman ability to ignore every pressing desire to kiss Brendon, though, because it really felt out of his control for a couple of moments. The disappointment on Brendon's features was tangible, and Ryan hoped that for once he made enough sense to just be straightforward. Just buzzed. Pretty much sober. Ryan could have argued with that, used every innuendo he'd heard from Brendon in the past few minutes as an example for why he didn't think 'pretty much sober' was accurate judgment, but. He had other concerns.

Once Brendon was close enough again, Ryan's hands naturally went to his waist, settling comfortably as if he were about to guide him in a slow dance. Kind of weird, given the pop music blasting in the background, but their own little bubble they'd created protected him from being too bothered about that. "We always act first, talk later. I just wanted to do it right this time," he explained, his voice low, and of course the 'act' was the kiss that he'd put on pause, but the term applied to their past in plenty of different scenarios. "I think... maybe the distance wasn't a mistake; it certainly helped me get some perspective, personally. But." He paused, hesitant. He didn't want to back Brendon into a corner if he'd been wrong this whole time and his feelings were really one-sided. Ryan took the risk anyway. "It would have been nice to come here with you. It'd be nice if we did everything together again, like we used to."

He ducked his head briefly before thinking better of it and braving eye contact instead. "I don't want to just- try to forget you, after this party. I don't think I could." Still, Ryan wasn't the one who ducked out originally. He wasn't the one who got scared (or, at least, not to the same extent). So it wasn't his choice whether they were together again or not. His voice grew a little softer and he gradually pulled them closer, vulnerable as ever. "You weren't sure, back then. How do you feel now?" One hand left Brendon's waist and instead fit against his jawline, his thumb brushing just to the side of Brendon's mouth as if he were already marking where exactly to place his kiss. If his own patience was growing thin, Ryan was pretty sure Brendon was totally out.

Brendon didn’t think they ever started things off on the wrong foot- Sure, it was kind of backwards in theory, with confessions of love coming before dates and kisses before even admitting romantic feelings or attraction, but it never felt wrong. In fact, he liked it better the way they did it- there was no awkward stage, no waiting around (okay, so maybe eight months of suppressed attraction could be classed as waiting around), and no blurred lines. Everything had always been clear between them and their relationship, up until the end, was affectionate and loving and Brendon had been genuinely happy. He still kind of hated himself for bolting so suddenly and costing him months without Ryan in his life. Brendon had overestimated his ability to survive without kisses or attention for extended periods of time, and since he reallt did thrive on other people’s appreciation sometimes, it was true that Brendon did have the capacity to have crushes on people and desire intimacy again when other people would have thought it too soon. It didn’t mean that Ryan didn’t mean that much to him- he just kind of craved the connection, and searched for it even though he knew in his heart that people like Ryan only came around once in a lifetime.

Perspective was all well and good, but Brendon was kind of bored of looking back and now wanted to look forward into what he hoped was a future with Ryan. Fuck past Brendon and his delusioned fears and subsequent choices. He was fully ready to kind of forget that the past few months had actually even happened. In a few weeks it would be just like a strange fever dream. Unfortunately, Ryan didn’t seem to agree; he wanted to address it ‘head on’ or whatever. Annoying. We always act first, talk later. And it worked so far. Brendon wasn’t sure what point he was trying to make, but he didn’t much care, because oh fuck, Ryan’s hands were at his waist and his breath hitched. I just wanted to do it right this time. Brendon opened his mouth to say something like are you saying the first time I kissed you I did it wrong, but given their situation as a broken up couple possibly in the process of ‘kissing and making up’ (with not enough kissing for Brendon’s liking), he kept it to himself and just kind of nodded.

I think... maybe the distance wasn’t a mistake; it certainly helped me get some perspective, personally. But. Impatient, Brendon reached up again to hang onto his tie, pulling on it a little in the hope of urging him on. No such luck- he wondered exactly how desperate he came across, and exhaled. ”True, but you also got fuckin’ taller, and you’re still... frustratingly hot. I-“ Brendon’s low voice almost surprised himself, and he twisted his other hand around Ryan’s tie too, looking up at him through his eyelashes. ”I think if there’s another second of ‘distance’ I’m actually going to die.” There was no embarrassment in his tone, just unabashed honesty, because Brendon really was going to go crazy. He swore Ryan was doing this on purpose.

It would have been nice to come here with you. It'd be nice if we did everything together again, like we used to. So, this was his way of asking him out again. It was a crime how somebody could be so endearing and so annoyingly attractive at the same time- the qualities shouldn’t mix, and Brendon couldn’t conjure up anything to say and simply nodded, fully not caring whether how enamoured he felt showed on his face any more. I don't want to just- try to forget you, after this party. I don't think I could. ”Then don’t,” He said, softly, feeling himself melt into him when Ryan pulled him closer, the contact making his heart ache in the best way. Sure that this was the moment, he closed his eyes apprehensively- to be greeted by nothing. Brendon’s grip on Ryan’s tie tightened substantially.

You weren’t sure, back then. How do you feel now? Brendon studied him for a few moments, blinking slowly when Ryan’s hand fitted around his face and jaw, framing him gently. Only around Ryan did he feel so comfortable, so wanted, so gentle, so safe and so in love. There was nothing left to question. ”I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.”

Between the two of them Ryan wasn’t sure he could claim the title of ‘more patient’ - they were probably about the same - but he definitely didn’t need the constant availability of affection or the unlimited supply of reassurance in the form of kisses or otherwise. He was a lot more dependent on someone being there with him in general who made him comfortable, like the security Brendon’s presence brought. Suppose it was only fair that they had an unspoken exchange going: right upon seeing each other again Brendon made the circumstances ten times less overwhelming, and he was ready to shower Brendon with attention. He wasn’t stupid. He could tell that he’d most certainly not upheld his side of the deal at an acceptable level as of late. Ryan had a tendency to make Brendon wait, though, even if in the past it’d been his obliviousness to blame (talking was more his forté than kissing, and he wasn’t even good at that).

To make up for his shortcomings Ryan tried his best for physical interaction while they talked, his hips nearly pressed to Brendon’s the more he continued. He was barely conscious of that part, actually, but apparently his body agreed independently of his mind with Brendon’s goal of moving past the speaking phase. At first he thought the plan worked, Brendon not protesting his speech as much as he suspected, but soon enough Ryan felt the familiar tug of Brendon hanging on to his tie. It was so endearing he kind of wanted to give up altogether, but what Ryan could barely express with words was harder to communicate with touch and body language. What Brendon worried might look like desperation was quickly mirrored, Ryan’s tone taking on a tiny amount of urgency, suddenly far too aware of even the smallest amount of distance between them.

True, but you also got fuckin’ taller, and you’re still... frustratingly hot. I- Ryan accidentally let a quiet laugh loose at Brendon’s impatience, wondering how he could digress from the topic so easily, but then again Ryan was entertaining pretty much equivalent thoughts about Brendon at the back of his mind. I think if there’s another second of ‘distance’ I’m actually going to die. Ryan fully agreed, and maybe he was stretching all this out a little bit. There was no real purpose other than to see whether he wasn’t the only one dead serious about going back to the way things were. He had no doubt that Brendon felt the same now after so much reciprocation, but when the conversation had started more with them hitting on each other like strangers in a club, Ryan held a few reservations. He knew he was way too romantic for his own good - that was for sure. But he still much preferred knowing that they were promised to each other again before giving into the rampant desire to just kiss him, finally.

Brendon welcomed his wishes, eventually, when he actually put them into coherent terms. Then don’t. He wasn’t really relieved, per se, because he’d have to be seriously deluded to believe Brendon would claim not to want to see him again, but there was still a weight off his chest. Again he wasn’t stupid - he saw Brendon steeling himself for a kiss for the umpteenth time, and, sort of amused and sort of guilty about it, Ryan had to shelf the idea once more. It seemed his question made up for the delay, thankfully, because Brendon appeared to soften, totally sure of his response. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life. Ryan blamed his low tolerance for making him less afraid of vulnerability this past, like, half hour, but it evidently worked out in his favor this time.

He gazed at Brendon a moment longer, contemplating whether he could prolong this a little more or not, but even he didn’t have an infinite amount of willpower. Ryan smiled briefly, reassured, and moved the hand at Brendon’s waist to cover the hands he had wrapped in a vice around his tie before finally leaning in to kiss him. The hand curled possessively along his jaw instead settled at the back of his neck, almost lifting him to his lips as much as he was pressing them closer together. It felt like forever that his mind blanked out, fully invested in kissing Brendon long enough and warmly enough to make up for lost time, before he shifted his attention to Brendon’s neck, intent on leaving a mark when he used to be so reluctant to do so. Now, though: no shame. ”Sorry to make you wait,” he laughed breathlessly against his skin, making an effort to curl his fingers through Brendon’s. There was something off about holding hands and reclaiming a love that never really dissipated in the middle of a Gabe Carrasco party, but. They were pretty eccentric anyway.

Brendon honestly thought it was getting a little ridiculous now- he wasn’t used to being so embarrassingly desperate and almost needy, and his excuse the next morning would inevitably be ‘I was tipsy’ and ‘I haven’t had any physical intimacy in months’, but he would know that really he was just vying for Ryan’s attention that much that he was willing to sacrifice whatever sense of dignity he had just to get his ex (were they still exes? He wasn’t even sure, they certainly weren’t acting like it) to kiss him. Unfortunately, Ryan didn’t seem to care about his desperation even as he wrapped his tie around his hands and tugged with considerable force, trying to pull him down to his lips. When he couldn’t, though, he remembered the difference in size and strength and even that made him a little weak. Brendon was gone, he was enamoured, he was obsessed again- and he realised distantly he’d never stopped, he’d just suppressed it. Now he could touch again, and he wanted to taste. Ryan, annoyingly, didn’t seem to feel that sense of urgency.

It wasn’t like they had all the time in the world. They were at a party, for God’s sake; Brendon was almost expecting that if he turned around, Gabe would he standing there with their phone, recording it. He was past caring at this point, though- even still, he wanted the moment to themselves, not interrupted by some annoying guest who wanted to get to the cocktail umbrellas that were on the counter behind where Ryan and Brendon were leaning, pressed together, Ryan’s hands at his waist, looking way too compromised to think of any plausible excuse for. Brendon silently told Ryan that this kiss he was taking forever to gear up for was worth it, and all he got in return was a laugh, to which he retaliated by pressing his hips closer, intentionally. That would wipe the smile off his face. Brendon realised whether they were on the same level of almost ridiculous sense of urgency, because he was barely keeping it together and Ryan was taking forever just to say something dumb and serious.

Sure, he got that Ryan was wary- Brendon had dumped him, after all- but Brendon really wasn’t in the mood to apologise or rekindle the more emotional parts of their relationship right now. Yes, he was still in love, but that could wait. Why couldn’t it wait? Frustration was rampant now, and he responded to what Ryan said with short answers, hoping to slice whatever meaningful conversation Ryan had planned in half. Again, it wasn’t like he didn’t want this side of their relationship again- in fact it was probably his favourite part (well, he liked to say so)- but he was tipsy, and different thoughts were running through his head and he kind of really needed to take a cold shower. Luckily, finally, miraculously, Ryan finally got the picture, and Brendon almost short circuited, almost forgetting to breathe.

One of Ryan’s hands was at the back of his neck and the other was joined with where Brendon was holding onto his tie but he didn’t close his eyes yet, he instead made eye contact for a few moments before he let them slide shut and leaned in almost involuntarily when Ryan finally kissed him, practically lifting him into it. Brendon’s hands pulled away from his tie after a moment and dropped down to Ryan’s hips, holding on. He let himself blank, melting a little, chasing when Ryan pulled back and finally inhaling, short of breath. Brendon opened his mouth to speak and took a few seconds to register that Ryan’s mouth was now at his neck. ”What are you- fuck,” He took a sharp intake of breath, feeling himself heat up again. Sorry to make you wait. Brendon just kind of hummed incomprehensibly, letting his eyes close. ”You’re fucking- evil.”

Distantly, Brendon registered that the long buildup was worth it, that the end result was worth the wait by far. Scenes were playing behind his eyelids, things he was entertaining that would happen if the circumstances of this reunion were different- more secluded. He blinked hard, moving his hands from his hips to his waist and then to the counter, a hand on either side of Ryan’s body. ”I missed this, too.”

It's not like Ryan anticipated a truly in-depth discussion on their relationship, but with the amount of reassurance he needed, it must've seemed that way. He didn't want to hear reasons for the split or anything, and he didn't really want to talk about his own feelings on the matter beyond 'I missed you.' Rather, Ryan was trying to lock in the premise of them meeting again - and soon. Being surface-level honest, making certain they were on the same page, made it seem more definite, in his mind. But he knew to quickly condense his thoughts into the basics, even moreso when his impatience with himself levelled with Brendon's. Ryan's half-assed effort to ignore Brendon deliberately urging him on, pressing his hips closer, was failing him; his expression changed quickly, simultaneously caught off-guard and determined all the same.

The tactic apparently worked, though, because it was moments later that he really got to the point, and Brendon's response was probably going to play in his head on loop for-fucking-ever. He was dragged back in to virtually the same feelings he had when he first saw Brendon, or when they were at the cabin, and all he could do was reminisce on the scenario. For the former he mostly was just obsessed with the image of Brendon singing his lyrics perfectly, or the sight of him by the tour bus, flushed from the energy expenditure but beautiful in the calm of evening around them. In the latter: seeing Brendon from afar, consumed by writing, so peaceful in his surreal surroundings before he realised Ryan had come outside; or, more obviously, how he sounded when he said 'I think I'm in love with you,' vaguely anxious like there was even a slight possibility Ryan might not reciprocate. And now, as if taking a mental snapshot, he committed to memory how everything seemed to just slow down at the simple words 'I've never been so sure of something in my life,' how it felt to breathe again.

He had a brief internal struggle, knowing he wanted to be close to Brendon again and cover as much area as he could but unsure where to start, and his hands quickly seemed to decide for him. He held onto Brendon's with one of them for a few fulfilling moments until Brendon's hands were occupied at his hips, and, okay, yeah, that was a better idea. There was enough of a wait between his switch from Brendon's lips to his neck, apparently, for Brendon to be on the verge of complaint, but luckily Ryan was no longer on a time-wasting vendetta. In fact, he was so nice that he didn't even laugh all smugly when Brendon was immediately responsive, his breathing hitched for a split second. You’re fucking- evil. Ryan smoothed a hand flat over the small of Brendon's back, almost protectively keeping him close, and hoped that maybe time would be cool and just stop for a while.

"Am I," he asked flatly although he'd definitely meant it to be a question, mostly filling the time while he pulled away to examine his work. Maybe he shouldn't embarrass Brendon too much - one would probably do. The hand cradling Brendon's head shifted low enough for him to run his thumb over the red-purple skin, and it was sorta funny juxtaposed with his bowtie, full tux getup. Except for the fact that when he looked at Brendon in general it suddenly really wasn't funny at all. He tried not to look too enamoured when Brendon's hands slipped over his waist, then ended up securing around him against the counter, because the intimacy - especially after a near-completely empty period - was so welcomed. And Ryan was maybe a little overly romantic about it all once his 'evil' practices were ignored; he kept opting for whatever position was closest to an embrace when he could, drew comforting circles with his thumb wherever his hands landed.

I missed this, too. Oh, an understatement. Ryan's immediate response was to briskly nod, sounding breathless even when only a short amount of time had passed. Helpless to what was now just a reflex to him, Ryan gave in to the urge to kiss him again, more chaste. "You're always better at it," he reflected, and then grinned. "I tend to talk too much." What was an admission to him knowing full well that he'd made them wait unnecessarily long also served to toy with Brendon, just throwing more pauses in. Because he didn't have an unlimited supply of self-control, though, Ryan placed a trail of kisses along his cheekbone, up to his temple, slowing down as the feeling that they needed to rush through it dissipated. Still - maybe it'd be more appropriate to hurry given the circumstances, but Ryan had successfully shut off his brain for once.

To Brendon, now that everything involving him and Ryan in a relationship and having a future was now a when and not just a maybe, or an if, the urgency for the reclamation of their deep romantic and emotional connection wasn’t rampant- at least, it hadn’t surfaced as much as the desire for physical connection and affection. Having gone a few months with nothing, no intimate human contact at all (he obviously still hugged and embraced his friends but Brendon needed it on a different level), he was almost desperate, his body tense with anticipation and apprehension because god, he’d missed this. He’d missed the attention that Ryan gave so liberally, and he’d missed showing such affection. He was good at it, better so than he was at actually telling someone how he felt, even if he was a decent lyricist by this point. Brendon, unlike Ryan, preferred to just go with the flow and follow his impulses- partly because he was impulsive anyway, with very little sense of control.

To him, what Ryan was doing was intentional and cruel, making a mockery of Brendon’s obvious end goal, which was to kiss and touch and make up as much as was possible from the months of nothing. In order to achieve this, to earn it, almost, he rattled off what was not only exactly what Ryan wanted to hear, but also what he genuinely meant. That he’d never been so positive of something in his entire life than he was now, having fully decided he wanted Ryan back. He wished he’d never left him in the first place. Luckily, Ryan was easy to please- moments later and they were kissing, and Brendon remembered the sensation but was still moonstruck all the same. He felt, however dramatic it was, at peace- like how he had been by the lake, outside the cabin. In love, content, like nothing could ever come between them- not even themselves and their own stupid, foundationless fears and useless doubts. Brendon wondered how he’d ever felt differently, even if only for a little while.

Nothing had changed. Ryan acted the same, looked the same (if not taller and hotter, if it was possible), kissed the same. Brendon kind of committed it all to memory, just in case he decided to he stupid again and break it off once more. He doubted Ryan would take him back after that. All that said, Brendon wasn’t one to dwell on the past or future; everything and all that mattered was just this moment. Brendon’s hands went a little slack at Ryan’s hips just as Ryan finished working on the mark on his neck. Having been kind of preoccupied, he didn’t realise how high up it was, reaching up to touch it and press down a little, wincing minutely before dropping both of his arms to press his hands against the counter, tilting his head slightly and leaning in to Ryan as he touched the forming bruise on his skin. Am I. ”Yes,” He repeated passionately, biting his lip. ”That’s fuckin’ high. What was the ulterior motive?” It was a miracle he could even say that word when he was considerably tipsy.

Either way, he didn’t particularly care about the lovebite (well, he did, which would he proven the next morning where he’d be staring at it in the mirror, burning up and in the need of a cold shower). He was just interested in getting as much out of this reunion as he could, because time and place was against them. It was a miracle somebody hadn’t come in and complained already (there were people in the kitchen, but they were few and too drunk to care anyway). His eyelashes fluttered minutely. You’re always better at it. Honestly- Brendon seconded that. I tend to talk too much. Now that was something he could agree with. Nodding vigorously, he opened his eyes with a lazy smirk and leaned in again to complete the chaste kiss. Soon, there were slow, sweet kisses being peppered along his cheekbone and temple and Brendon was hit with a wave of affection, wondering how plausible it was to stay like this forever. Time, he figured, should stop for such a monumental occasion.

”I love you,” Brendon mumbled suddenly, moving away and down slightly to press his mouth against his throat, speaking against his skin and then moving to kiss just where he could feel Ryan’s pulse. ”Fuck, I never stopped.” After a moment, he grinned, moving up again to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth, Ryan-style. ”This is like fucking... the Cabin, all over again. My feelings for you have remained consistently the same.” A pause. This was so much to register, even if it was nothing he hadn’t felt before. Although he was capable of being that legible at this point, Brendon was still driven mostly by his impulses, and he pressed close again, trying to eliminate all space between them and catch him again in a kiss, this time less chaste and more semi-purposeful, his pulse starting to race as his entire body flushed with a familiar heat. ”I love you,” He repeated, on pausing to breathe. ”I’ve missed you, and I talk too much too.”

Ryan wished distantly that there was a way to jump ahead in time, to a point where they didn't have to go to different apartments with different friends and try to meet again without interference. He was sure he couldn't leave with Brendon or vice versa, anyway; Ryan knew at least Spencer would be very much against the reunion and they had a better chance explaining themselves sometime that wasn't late in the night, when everyone had had a few drinks. That went hand in hand with the 'different friends' issue - they were now in distinctly separate social circles, like they'd gotten divorce and their kids all had to pick sides, or whatever. Ryan at least would be glad to bring everything together again, but he wasn't sure how quickly others would adapt to it.

Mostly, though, Ryan was disappointed that the possibility of them instantly joining each others' lives again was slim. Brendon was probably busy with the band, Ryan had picked an apartment slightly out of the way, there were people to get around unless they were going to be open about getting back together - it was messy. If they had only one night and no other meeting planned in the foreseeable future, he'd try to fit everything in all at once, no regard for how appropriate it might be for some theme party. And in the kitchen, no less, although it was marginally better than their previous location just on the outskirts of all the action. Ryan considered the fact that Gabe had a huge house with probably at least five rooms that would suit their need for some space away from the party itself... but they probably wouldn't appreciate that. And he didn't trust himself to remember to actually leave the place if they got comfortable. So maybe he was a little desperate.

Anyway. Ryan couldn't plan out their future or whatever - not that he was so concerned about anything beyond a handful of weeks - right here, not when he was determined to spend their limited time properly. Without really being conscious of what he was actually doing, Ryan's apparent first choice was to leave a reminder on Brendon's skin, purple and red and kind of obvious against the pale canvas. At first Brendon was too distracted to care, and Ryan realized he probably should have, like, asked first, or something, once Brendon woke up from his daze to actually feel his bruise, not looking particularly pleased about the placement. Yes. Ryan tried not to laugh at the weight of his tone, instead suppressing it behind a grin.

Deciding he really didn't have the same concerns as Brendon, he let his gaze drop to his mouth, watching him briefly catch his lip. That’s fuckin’ high. What was the ulterior motive? He made a show of trying to adjust Brendon's shirt collar to hide it, smoothing down the suit jacket that rose with it all the same. Amused, Ryan shrugged a shoulder, giving up on his endeavor. "Thought you'd see it later and think of me," he said contemplatively, although he was fairly certain neither of them would need a reminder. In fact Ryan's mind would likely not drift anywhere else over the next week - but that was assuming they didn't get to make another memory. When it seemed Brendon wasn't too upset about the matter Ryan had already started painting a little constellation of kisses against his skin, utterly out of place when they'd acted with such urgency moments before.

He didn't think the gesture was anything particularly special, but Brendon's reaction said otherwise. I love you. Ryan was thrown off for a moment, watching him move away with a sort of awed fondness, and he realized this was the first time in months either of them had said that to each other. It felt so natural and easy, but given the time, the meaning was so much heavier, and it took him a beat to regain his voice. "I love you," he echoed, quieter, speaking almost into Brendon's hair before tipping his head back to give him easier access. Fuck, I never stopped. He laughed softly, breathlessly, and was tilting his head back down just as Brendon pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, just as off-center as Ryan tended to be. It occurred to him that he had plenty to say, plenty of things he wanted to do, but more than that, Brendon had his full, undivided attention when he was talking this way. So all he could do was listen, charmed, his jaw a little slack.

This is like fucking... the cabin, all over again. My feelings for you have remained consistently the same. Ryan was a little startled by his clarity but it was completely fitting, an accurate description of his own feelings. He nodded just slightly, still virtually immobilized by the sudden change in mood. "I know what you mean," he said as casually as he could, a half-smile playing on his lips. "And you just keep giving me reasons to love you more." Like, right now, for example. It's not like Brendon starved him of these kinds of moments and that was the reason for his surprise - it's just. It'd been a while, and in that while, this was exactly the sort of thing he'd imagine and daydream about. It was in the midst of a party, no less, although Ryan had forgotten all about their surroundings some time ago.

All of the tiny centimeters of space between them disappeared and still Ryan didn't feel like they could be close enough. He melted into the kiss, relying completely on Brendon's guidance because at this point he'd lost the capability to think or function at all. I love you. Ryan's brain struggled to turn back on and somewhere in there he was thinking about every invitation he'd ever declined, so glad that this wasn't one, and also he'd have to thank Gabe later with, like, the contents of his bank account. He let their foreheads rest together for a second, smiling, before pulling back, taking his features in again as if he hadn't been looking the entire night. I’ve missed you, and I talk too much too. Ryan laughed again, briefly and almost silently, shaking his head. "I could listen forever. I love you so much," he answered, warmth flooding him before he realised he was probably dumbly blushing. He couldn't really muster up the energy to care, though.

The hand in Brendon's hair dropped, joining the other at the small of his back, and he sort of swayed both of them, his lips pressed to Brendon's forehead for a long moment before he could bring himself to pull back. "I don't know how we survived. Actually - I think I died and you brought me back to life tonight." He cracked up a little, tilting his head to one side and studying Brendon again, unable to stop smiling.

Though Brendon knew and was perfectly fine with the fact that he was in love with Ryan and always had been, he wasn’t exactly ready to fully combine their lives again- even if their inner circles had once been one, and had just split and grew when they had broken apart, just acting like nothing had ever happened wouldn’t go down well with anyone. Brendon dreaded to think how Spencer would react, but he wasn’t sure why; Spencer and Ryan had been best friends since childhood, then Brendon came along and kind of usurped the title from him, taking Spencer away upon the breakup. Knowing Spencer, he’d try and make it as easy as possible and he and Ryan would click again almost instantly. Though that was kind of what Brendon was afraid of- bringing people back together, and then there being on the horizon a chance that Brendon would freak out again and call it all off, or it just wouldn’t work out. Friendships would sever again inevitably and Brendon would feel at fault. He didn’t like having it all on his conscience.

That said, he wasn’t sure now whether he could bear spending much time away from Ryan again, because they seemed kind of one entity- both literally and physically, they were so close together. Brendon’s thoughts were occupied by all manner of things but all linked back to Ryan- one of those trains of thought being which bedrooms in Gabe’s house were least likely to be used and furthest away from other people. But then he realised that maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea- they’d fall asleep and Gabe would find them in the morning (they kind of had a sixth sense for drama and turning up at the worst times for other people), and that would be kind of embarrassing for future slightly hungover them- even Brendon, who sometimes appeared to be practically shameless.

No matter how he came across, the belief that he was beyond embarrassment was entirely false, because when Ryan decidedly went down the route of leaving a bruise high on his neck he had tensed for a moment and considering asking him to stop. With that, he’d have no chance of explaining his absence to his bandmates, unless he dodged around the question of his company after he ditched Spencer and Dallon. His head immediately went to Gabe, but Spencer and Dallon weren’t stupid. They knew Brendon, he didn’t move on from things that quickly, and even if he did, he wouldn’t go about it like that. Brendon was effectively doomed to interrogation and then mockery. Fun. After several milliseconds of doubt he silenced his thoughts, though, because he knew that the mark would stay and Ryan wouldn’t be able to and this would be his reminder. Ryan finished his endeavour and turned up Brendon’s collar in a half-assed effort to hide it, and Brendon laughed a little, but he was really thinking about the familiar purple and red against the canvas of his pale, lightly freckled skin. Thought you’d see it later and think of me.

”Good thinking,” He offered, bringing a hand up to trace over it and then move his hand to curl around Ryan’s side again, ”But if you think I’m gonna need any prompting to think about you, you’re very wrong.” It was true. Ryan would be in his head perpetually after so long of forcing himself to forget how he kissed, the sound of his voice when he was sleepy, the colour of his eyes when the light levels were just right, how his hair went curly when it grew long enough, his presence beside Brendon in bed, his laugh, the smile he so often tried to hide. God, he was weak. I love you. He was close to replying with ‘I know’ like some Star Wars nerd, but he was captivated anyway and couldn’t actually words or even sentences. He just let Ryan kiss him until he regained the ability.

I know what you mean. Oh, good. Wasn’t just him. And you just keep givon my me reasons to love you more. Brendon laughed softly, raising a playfully questioning eyebrow and pressing a kiss against his jaw. ”Like what, baby?” Not allowing a reply, moments later they were melting into a kiss again, eyelids falling shut easily as he held himself as close as was possible, then when oxygen was unfortunately required, he chased him in vain, hands tight at Ryan’s hips. I could listen forever. Doubtful, But a sweet sentiment. I love you so much. Brendon smiled, feeling a hand drop to join Ryan’s other one down at the small of his back. ”Aw, you’re all flushed. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” He grinned, nudging his foot with his own as if to edge him on to get the joke.

I don't know how we survived. Actually - I think I died and you brought me back to life tonight. Brendon leaned up again to the side of Ryan’s neck and found his pulse, pressing his lips against it and feeling it thrum with decent speed. ”You’re definitely alive now. Sound like you’ve sprinted somewhere, though. That my doing?”

Ryan's main issue here was staying more than a couple of inches away from Brendon's skin, always intent on pressing another kiss to whatever skin was available with no consideration for the fact that both of them had to talk eventually. In fact the only thing keeping him from leaving another very obvious lovebite to accompany the last was Brendon reaching up to explore it, and Ryan was left grinning at him somewhat sheepishly. Good thinking. But if you think I’m gonna need any prompting to think about you, you’re very wrong. His guilty smile turned to a fond one, endeared to that sentiment, and it once again felt so strange to be in the middle of a gradually drunker crowd of partygoers when they were talking like this, so vulnerably. And he understood exactly what Brendon meant, 'cause he was pretty much always on Ryan's mind anyway, even if not in the forefront. After this it would definitely be worse, and far more tangible, so basically he was screwed until they got used to each other again. Ryan didn't see that happening any time soon.

Ryan always felt a little cheesy after saying things he intended to be sweet but came out more like a bad rom-com line, but Brendon just validated his words with a good-humoured laugh and a chaste kiss. No space for judgment when they were both kind of useless in these situations anyway. Like what, baby? That was just an invitation for more corny drabble - like when I first saw you again here, or whenever you genuinely smile, or whenever I hear your voice even in recordings, so on - but Ryan managed to keep it in his head until their lips met again to help shut him up. Sure, it wouldn't be a bad thing to get ridiculously over-emotional given their circumstances, but the openness would still be just a little embarrassing. And whenever he shared what exactly Brendon did to make him weak it always came back to haunt him, 'cause then later Brendon knew what exactly to do to make him turn red and stumble over his words. Totally unfair.

Speaking of. Aw, you’re all flushed. Is it hot in here, or is it just me? Ryan rolled his eyes, because he was very correct in his observation and Ryan had absolutely no comeback for it. "Definitely you," he said, and felt even more warmth. Again - embarrassing. He looked away to hide how dumb his smile must look at this point for a moment before turning back, missing the comfort of seeing Brendon again. "It's not fair. You came wearing this. I had no chance." He pinched the lapel of Brendon's jacket, running his fingers down until his hands could once again settle at the small of his back. "Did you plan all of this with Gabe? You very conveniently showed up looking better than anyone else here." Then again, although Ryan's question was in jest, Gabe would not appreciate that kind of opinion, 'cause they were probably going for 'best dressed.' Anyway, Ryan was sort of biased.

Ironically, in response to what could only be described as Brendon's kiss against his pulse, Ryan felt his heart hum harder, so easily influenced by him. You’re definitely alive now. Sound like you’ve sprinted somewhere, though. That my doing? Before Brendon was here, it was probably the fault of such a large amount of people in one space, or his tendency to worry what people thought of him even when it was more likely no one was paying him any attention. Now, though, he was definitely very much affected by not only Brendon's presence and everything he was doing, but also any of the incoherent and overheated thoughts running rampant through his head. 'Disappointed' was an insufficient word to describe how he felt about not being able to go him with Brendon or vice versa. "I'd tell you not to be so cocky, but really..." He laughed sort of helplessly, his breath short.

Ryan's thoughts went back, involuntarily, to minutes ago when he was so uncertain about all of this, apprehensive to accept any of Brendon's tipsy-confident advances. When Brendon so much as touched his suit jacket he'd wanted, partially, to pull his hands away, save himself from potential hurt; when all Brendon had for him was compliments the only responses he could initially conjure were awkward smiles and stunted 'thank you's. Now they were undoubtedly on the same page again, and although obviously his lovestruck heart rate disagreed, Ryan was at ease for the first time in a long time. He'd slowed down, his haste to cover Brendon in kisses and never let him go not dissipated but definitely feeling less life-or-death, and now his reflecting forced him to turn his gaze to the floor, staring at the tile.

"Thank you," he said gently, knowing full well that was the strangest thing to say given their situation, but. It felt necessary. "I thought, maybe... I was afraid you didn't feel the same, after all this time." And he was dumb as hell for it. His original, insecure suspicion that maybe Brendon had approached him out of any place other than an affection that'd lived beyond their breakup was ridiculous; not a totally unfounded fear but still not something that should've weighed on him so heavily, considering Brendon's character. He placed another forbearing hand against the side of Brendon's face, still committing his features to memory as he'd tried moments previous. "Now it's like nothing ever changed." Basically it didn't - they were both still in love, after all.