He'd done it. Ryan finally successfully maintained a relationship for a year. Well - they'd already recently celebrated the milestone, but he was still ecstatic about it; he did have longer, more chaotic relationships in the past, and none of them were as good as he and Brendon were. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and with anyone else he just ended up not matching, getting irritated all the time, not splitting up despite the unhealthiness for an absurd amount of time. Brendon he understood, and it seemed Brendon easily understood him; they quickly learned so much about each other and had a close prior friendship to boot. Safe to say Brendon had fast become closer to him than anyone else before, possibly even surpassing childhood friends, and he didn't see anything but blue skies for them.

The band, on the other hand, was looking a little rough, and Ryan excused it away with them just being sick of one another after so much time working on the new album, executing everything as perfectly as possible, barely seeing anyone but each other and people from their team. Turns out you got sick of people real quick when you withheld annoyance at every little bothersome habit, had no way to really get away for a while, so on. He was fooling himself thinking all of that; the start of their venture had gone off well enough, but now he detected slight changes here and there, picked up on strange musical directions played from a hotel room over or down in the tour bus lounge that he would never incorporate into his work. Ryan drove himself a bit crazy when he thought about it too much, his ever-present anxiety turning him into a speculative, constant worrier, and promptly pushed everything to the side. The tour had been over for only a bit of time now - he could deal with it later if there was actually an issue.

Aside from his conspiracy theories, everything was fine. Great, actually. Their live album he'd initially been worried about, thought it was weird that so much of them backstage and all was going to permanently exist, but it was surprisingly successful. The real album received praise about they 'artistic evolution' (Ryan partially lent credit to Brendon for maybe inspiring that, since the process of making it conveniently came together a fairly short amount of time after he joined), and the goddamn Rolling Stone claimed they'd made one of the boldest moves in rock history. Thirteen year old Ryan would've been even more ridiculous than he was, hearing that. And although he wasn't sure how to put it into perspective, he'd learned that the album was selling fast - in the thousands, tens of thousands, more - and that's what he'd been looking for. People to hear them out. Based on the reception during tour, they liked what they heard, too, must've been moved in some way.

They were lucky to get away with such a change, and there was plenty of critique on that, but still. Everything was great. Usually Ryan would be right back on track writing, but he was creatively exhausted after this more exhausting round, and all he wanted to do was lie down forever and take back whatever ludicrous amount of hours of sleep he'd missed out on while he was gone. And that's actually what he did before it, unsurprisingly, got boring after a few days, and he was back to being around Brendon half the time if not more - even after months of being crammed together. Sometimes their patience ran short because they were human or whatever. Difference: Ryan very quickly recovered from those drained times with Brendon, whereas he'd really have to separate from Spencer or Jon for a while. And with Brendon, for either of them it was 'hey, I need some space,' - he'd tell Jon and Spencer to fuck off for a bit and they'd definitely say the same back to him. So they worked well together.

Anyway. The exhaustion was fading away fairly quickly, and it became easier to actually get out of his house. When he rolled over from a close to middle-of-the-day nap (a concept he was unused to but enjoying), his phone was alight with notifications, and he scrambled to grab it. Blinked a few times to read the screen clearly. Brendon was asking if he wanted to come over, was he busy, and absolutely he wanted to come over, was that even a question. Honestly, they'd probably have already moved in together if only they hadn't been outside of their homes for the majority of the last year, where it was impossible to make a big change like that. Or at least, Ryan thought about it sometimes, mind drifting off to what could become of them, how they had so much ahead of them. That aside, Ryan tapped out what was a vaguely incoherent 'hell yeah,' typos abound from his sleepy state, and he quickly got out of bed, got ready. This baby blue V-neck was all he could find that appealed to him, and he realized it was probably not even his, or Brendon just stole it so often to wear when he was ofer that it seemed that way. In fact, it was a miracle it was even still in his house.

He figured Brendon would probably enjoy that kind of reminder, so he pulled it on, tried to undo all the signs of sleep in his face in the mirror, and headed out. He absently thought of what they could do in the car, and when the idea of playing music was introduced, he quickly shook it off. Playing guitar and singing again so soon would probably kill him, or he'd do it himself. He texted Brendon a couple of minutes before he arrived that he was pretty much there, because like hell was he gonna knock on the door like they were acquaintances, and instead used his spare key to let himself in. Not necessary, it turned out. "Brendon Blake. Your door was unlocked. Unless that's for my convenience, I'm disappointed," he called, facetious, voice gradually lowering as he became more within earshot while approaching Brendon in his living room - who appeared to have been half on his way to meet him on the door, anyway. Ryan closed the gap himself and planted a modest kiss on his cheek in greeting, hands automatically going to his waist, levelling his gaze. "Hey, you. What are you up to?"

Brendon knew pretty much everything about Ryan’s past ‘serious’ relationships, that had been on-off, fraught with conflict and toxicity, and exclusively with women, as far as he knew- Ryan had told him all about it, after a little gentle pushing. He was just genuinely curious about Ryan’s history, because if this was the man he wanted to be with, he had to learn about his past to become comfortable in the present to share the future with him. So Ryan spilled after not a lot of convincing, which was surprising, because he didn’t like to talk much about himself. But then, Brendon was in a unique position- Ryan’s boyfriend, now of a year, who was the only person Ryan was truly gentle for and didn’t get sick of spending time with. Brendon felt privileged to be maybe Ryan’s first concrete geniune relationship, but on the other hand, insecurities started to play on his mind during tour. While moving around the world for over a year on tour, where he was surrounded by so many different people that he got on well with and felt attracted to (nothing more, obviously; just feelings he couldn’t help), seeds of doubt had sprouted in his heart. Ryan was his first long-term, serious romance, and it wasn’t like he felt tied down, but he was worried that he didn’t actually know that what he felt for Ryan was actual love and whether it was just... He wasn’t sure, but he was scared, anxious he was making the wrong decision, committing to one person too soon.

If Brendon had a little sense, and was less impulsive to be jumping to these conclusions immediately, he’d get in tune with himself and recognise that yeah, he was in love, undoubtedly, and that hadn’t weakened- even with tour, which had been, in a word, exhausting. It had been the best part and then some of a year of none-stop shows and very short breaks and having to spend every waking minute with the same three people. Tensions did run high on that tour, mostly from frustration and the sensation of being cooped up without much space, but on a whole, they had enjoyed it. The last album was the first one Brendon had anything to do with, and since lead vocalist was changing to Brendon for an actual record and he wasn’t just heavily contributing towards the vocals live, everyone was slightly worried about the possible backlash of such a drastic change. But they had confidence in Brendon, it was Brendon, for fuck’s sake, and Ryan especially (strange, considering Brendon was sort of hogging the limelight- but then Ryan had never been one for that anyway) reassured Brendon that it would be received fine. And they were all right- sold-out tour, top selling album and singles, generally positive reviews from critics and an incredible from most fans (apart from those who were diehard for Ryan’s more subtle, humble frontman style and extremely different voice and stage presence).

So, in that way, everything was looking great when tour finally ended- even though the band members had started briefly locking horns over musical direction, there were only surface cracks that could easily be healed. They didn’t start writing again (or rather, Ryan didn’t, and everyone generally followed his lead at this point), and went home to have some well-deserved, extended alone time for the first time in a year. For Brendon and Ryan, that lasted a couple of days before they were seeing eachother almost every day again, because they were just that smitten for eachother, still in their extended honeymoon phase. Everything was fine, it was like in the beginning, they were touchy and affectionate and loving and close- but then Ryan started talking about the future, and Brendon didn’t understand. Wasn’t the present good enough for him? Did everything have to be so defined? He was mentioning things like moving in, and Brendon felt himself to a little dizzy when that was brought up, and not in a good way. Brendon loved Ryan- and he was doubting his feelings now- but it was a little suffocating.

It was when Ryan started casually talking about moving in together when Brendon decided conclusively it was time to sever the tie, move on, get a chance to actually meet other people before he made the decision to settle with the first man he’d ever dated. He’d heard everywhere that a first romance never lasted- and to prevent himself worse heartache, he thought it made sense to cut it off sooner rather than later. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy- Brendon was spelling out the demise of a healthy and happy relationship because of his own fears of commitment, not out of any rational reasoning. He hadn’t spoken to anyone, not even Ryan, which should have probably been his first port of call- instead, Brendon was characteristically impulsive and came to the decision himself. He’d mulled it over in hindsight for a few days when he decided there was no point prolonging the inevitable, and he sent Ryan a vague but breezy text about him coming over. Hell Yeah. Brendon smiled despite himself, then it dropped.

Their apartments were about ten minutes away from eachother, so ten minutes later, Brendon got a text that told him Ryan was almost there. He went and stood in his bathroom, splashed his face with cold water, and ran his hands through his hair. His hands were shaking, and he bit his lip so hard while concentrating on trying to stop them that he tasted blood. Suddenly, he heard the door open- he’d left it unlocked, and he turned, strode out of the bathroom, and met his boyfriend halfway across the living room. Brendon Blake. Your door was unlocked. ”Excellent observation,” He retorted gently, his snarky response automatic, their exchange comfortable, familiar. Brendon’s chest felt uncomfortably tight. Unless that’s for my convenience, I’m disappointed. Brendon smiled faintly, all thoughts of breakup and stress momentarily dissipating when Ryan covered the space between them and immediately rested his hands on his waist. Brendon stayed quiet as he received a chaste kiss on the cheek, and he gazed up at his boyfriend, enamoured- no. What was he doing? This teenage attachment wasn’t how to go about a breakup. Hey, you. What are you up to?

Brendon released a long sigh, that could be relieved or disappointed. He rested his hands gently on Ryan’s arms and impulsively leaned in to kiss him, then stepped into his arms and slung his arms around his neck, burying his face in the crook of his shoulder and inhaling. ”Waiting for you,” Brendon reported, closing his eyes. He felt so comfortable, secure. Maybe he didn’t have to break up with him. He decided distantly he’d let Ryan convince him. ”How about you?” His voice was muffled against Ryan’s v-neck. The one Brendon wore so much that it was stranger to see Ryan wear it. He didn’t pull away.

Of course Ryan had his own doubts at times. Neither of them were perfect, and his relationship track record was even less. He'd made so many mistakes before that seemed good in the beginning, more than good, even, and what set this one apart from that? He and Brendon had barely any issues, and if they did it usually stemmed from too much time stuffed together in tight spaces afforded to them on tour. Disagreements came around from different lyrical directions or extended periods of time without sleep, and then both of them would realize it was about time they force themselves to go to bed, and in the morning all was well. And of course there was the rare occasion where they'd actually be annoyed by each other. Since they were young and dumb they didn't usually talk it out, unfortunately, but the annoyance would pass anyway, apologies coming through with kisses and a fulfilling of whatever each other's coffee order was. They were pretty easygoing that way.

None of that was enough to warrant a lot of doubt for him, though - it was mostly the part where this was his first relationship not with a girl, and what if he was just idealizing it because of that, what if there was something better that he wasn't realizing, so on. Regardless, any picture that came to his head about a future involving Brendon wasn't bad. Actually, far from it; it was all perfect. He'd owe that fact to Brendon just being new to him, of course he'd idealize things, but then months passed and he still felt the same, and a year passed and he felt even better about them. It wasn't often he had confidence in much of anything, but with them it was hard for him not to. He was human and got curious of what else sometimes, but the curiosity was short-lived - he generally concluded that whatever else there was couldn't be Brendon.

So of course he jumped at an invitation to see him again, taking no time at all to get to his place. Worryingly, he basically broke in with ease. Concerning, to say the least. Excellent observation. Yeah, well. It wasn't a good thing. Evidently it was intentional, though, so he let it slide. Brendon was quiet apart from an extended sigh, the reason for which was unclear, and Ryan figured he'd probably just woken up from a long ass nap, too. Actually, Spencer and Jon were probably doing the exact same, or waiting until later to pass out. He studied Brendon fondly for a moment, registering that he'd actually missed him in the mere hours they'd been apart, and then Brendon gently held onto his arms, leaning in to kiss again. Yeah, Ryan definitely missed this.

Unexpectedly, but certainly welcome, Brendon stepped in to close the tiny distance left between them, arms hung over his shoulders and face buried close to his pulse. Ryan was a little concerned; first he'd been quiet, and now this was a lot more serious and calm than he'd usually be, but Ryan brushed it off in favor of wrapping his arms around Brendon's middle, pulling him close. He kissed the side of his head, grinning in amusement at how it distinctly looked like he was hiding in the crook of his shoulder, and let them sway a little, raising one hand to cradle the back of his head. Waiting for you. He was slightly muffled against fabric, but warm, and Ryan smoothed his hand over his back reassuringly. How about you? "Well," Ryan breathed thoughtfully, "I just slept all day, so not much. And then I raced other cars to get to you." He laughed softly, gaze turning to the opposite wall rather than at Brendon's hair, all that was visible of him.

He kept them guided in the same tiny undulation, a natural continuation of the gentle tone Brendon had introduced. In fact, it sort of reminded Ryan of plans he'd been trying to finish for a while. "You know," he said after a pause, fingers carding through Brendon's hair slowly, "We wouldn't even have to meet up if we lived in the same place. And you definitely have a better apartment, so my vote's on that." A touch of laughter was on his voice at that last part, barely nervous making the suggestion since they'd practically lived together through the entire tour anyway. "Although I'm a notorious blanket thief, so I'd bring my own, promise."

/

Since they both were young, and inexperienced with relationships and romance, the fallouts they did go through tended to be brief, but poorly handled, problems more likely to be swept under the rug in an attempt to forget them rather than addressed and solved. Okay, so maybe Ryan technically had a lot of experience; but it wasn’t all exactly helpful. A handful of girlfriends (some barely qualifying) in the space of a few short years, one after the other, meant he never made a meaningful connection with any of them- and they were less romantic, more motivated entirely by more careless motives, as a mutual means to an end, something to do for the sake of it. Brendon was not his first intimate relationship with a man (Ryan was a questioning musician, Brendon would’ve been seriously surprised otherwise), but he was his first boyfriend. To Brendon, though, that didn’t matter- the idea had recently started to grow in his head that he was just another in a string of Ryan’s lovers, even if deep down he knew what they had was special, Ryan hadn’t lied to him at the cabin and kept it up all this time.

If Brendon thought that through for a little longer, maybe even used his heart instead of his misguided rationale, he would come to that realisation; that it was unfair to judge Ryan just because his dating history was questionable, it was wrong to think that he had no special place in Ryan’s heart. But Brendon was scared- and in worrying he was doing the wrong thing, he set himself up to do something that would just make him miserable. See, Brendon’s dating history was more or less the opposite to Ryan’s, in that he didn’t really have one; he’d been on dates, had brief flings, but nothing long enough to call a relationship, and that was something when you looked at what qualified as a relationship for Ryan. Brendon was worried that he wasn’t in love, that he didn’t know what love even felt like, it was unbelievably unlikely- impossible, even- that the first man he’d ever properly had feelings for was ‘the one’, the person he was meant to spend the rest of his life with. Yeah, their time at the cabin had been incredible, a heady cocktail of gentleness, intensity, passion, connection; but was it love? Self-doubt was eating him alive, and with that came a fear to commit, because what if he was right, and in a few months he’d realise this wasn’t as real as he thought it was?

Brendon’s head was swimming with doubt and anxiety and dread, and it surged through him afresh when he saw Ryan standing in his living room, causing his body to freeze as he stopped on his way to meet his boyfriend at the door. Turned out he didn’t need to let him in- he’d forgotten to lock the door, but he played it off pretty well as intentional. The only thing that stopped him breaking down right there from all the chaos in his head was the familiar contact of Ryan’s hands against his waist. Brendon ignored everything he’d told himself he was going to do (for example, get it over with and break up with him as soon as possible) and held onto him with an underlying desperation, managing to control his emotion when he leaned it for a light kiss. Fuck, why did he do that? Kissing his boyfriend right before forcibly making him his ex was probably not the best way to go about this, and he knew that, but it was so hard, he looked into his eyes and suddenly he was back at the lake, confessing and kissing in the rain. It was picturesque, but seemed to Brendon more like a passing fantasy than his reality.

There was still space between them, and though his common sense told him to widen the gap, his heart and his body forced him forwards into the comforting embrace of Ryan’s arms, resting his face into his shoulder, close enough to his skin to hear his pulse and feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. He closed his eyes and swallowed when Ryan pressed a kiss to the side of his head, and he let himself relax just a little when Ryan cradled his head and swayed them both slightly. Maybe they could stay like this forever- no space between them, linked together, their height difference working perfectly so that they just fit like puzzle pieces- then Brendon wouldn’t have to think about the future, he could dwell entirely in the present, with Ryan. That’s what he wanted. He didn’t want any talk of future and forever- Brendon was too impulsive for a predetermined life, too unpredictable to be confined by the idea of ‘forever’ with a single person, no matter how much that single person made his heart skip in his chest. Well. Brendon felt his breath against his neck, turned his face further into his skin, crossing his wrists where his arms wrapped loosely around Ryan’s neck.

I just slept all day, so not much. Brendon wondered what Ryan was thinking. Was he happy? Was Brendon about to ruin his day, his week, his month, his year? Maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe Ryan could convince him he didn’t have to take such drastic measures. And then I raced other cars to get to you. Brendon pulled back finally, opened his eyes, smiled up at him. ”Wow, you got out of bed to come see me? Don’t suppose you’d wanna get back in?” He teased, all the while asking himself what the hell he was doing, Brendon, are you stupid, you’re making this so much worse, so much harder than it has to be. He was still close, his hands resting against Ryan’s chest as Ryan carded his fingers through his hair. There was a silence- a comfortable one for Ryan, maybe, a suffocating one for Brendon. But he felt a little different. This was nice. This was wonderful. Was it worth giving up? Brendon gazed up at him, attentive.

You know. Brendon was barely listening- he had stepped closer, pressed his lips comfortably against Ryan’s jaw, trying to distract himself from conscious thought and allowing himself a more physical, emotional experience before he made up his mind. We wouldn't even have to meet up if we lived in the same place. And you definitely have a better apartment, so my vote's on that. Ryan’s voice may have been light, breezy almost, but Brendon felt his blood run cold, his stomach drop. This is what he’d been afraid of- Ryan becoming too absorbed in the long term, wanting bigger steps when Brendon was afraid of even little ones. And that passing comment referred to a huge commitment, and the gravity of that was enough to send him over the edge of ‘maybe not’ into the world of ‘yes, I have to’. He said something else, then, something about blankets, but Brendon had tuned completely out. He felt like he was underwater, slow movements, muffled hearing, confused senses. Brendon breathed in, breathed out shakily, and stepped back out of his arms forcefully, dropping his hands rigidly to his sides.

”Ryan,” He began, dropping his eyes to the floor, ”I- I can’t.” A pause, as he swallowed, willing his voice not to waver and crack. ”Can’t do- this. Us. It’s too much. Too soon. Too fast,” Brendon wondered if he was actually talking because the voice he heard coming out of his mouth wasn’t his own, it sounded distant, but distressed, shaking. ”I’m sorry. This is why I called you here.” An attempt at sounding decisive failed, and Brendon just felt ridiculous. He was hit with a sudden desire to be held, comforted, but it wasn’t like- fuck. Brendon couldn’t even meet his eyes.

At his rather dry response - but Ryan wasn't much for conversation right away, anyway - Brendon looked up at him, seemingly amused, and Ryan's heart skipped just at the sight of his smile. Jesus, the thought of waking up to that every morning rather than every other morning or even longer than that... yeah, he'd like to get to that point sooner rather than later. By now Ryan was basically holding his tongue to stop from running the suggestion by Brendon, but they tended to be on equal terms at any given time, so he wasn't really worried. They'd both written those songs on the new record, same romanticism, same idealism, the same concept to reinvent love. Honestly, they had kind of succeeded in doing that, Ryan thought. Or, anyway, his idea of love had changed entirely. Like he'd admitted to before, all his past 'lovers' were nothing, now. A thing of the past, and a very dumb past at that. Now seventy percent of his thoughts were dominated by Brendon, Brendon, Brendon, and the other thirty were pretty pointless since they weren't about him.

Wow, you got out of bed to come see me? Ryan nodded vehemently, like he was impressed with even himself, and smirked in what was meant to be a suppressed smile. Don’t suppose you’d wanna get back in? That was very tempting. In fact, it was the secondmost thing he wanted more than anything right now, and the first thing he was trying to cut to the chase for rather quickly. He toyed briefly with the idea of breaking his thoughts to Brendon in bed, an even calmer place to do it, but Ryan always took forever to get to the point, so. May as well get it over with. Plus - if he brought it up now, they'd end up having one bed to waste days away in. Shared. Like everything else would be. God, that'd be ideal. He was stroking more carefully at the fade of Brendon's hairline, already envisioning it all.

Brendon's lips were pressed almost absently to his jaw and Ryan leaned into it while he spoke, already stuck in the motion of moving them like a slow current. He wasn't worried at all, in fact, he was completely careless, in the place he probably felt most comfortable with the person he felt most comfortable; and then he was. Brendon became rigid in his arms, breathing stunted, and suddenly he wasn't holding onto him anymore. It'd never occurred to him that maybe they weren't on the same page before - well, it had, but it sounded so absurd to him, and he'd even spoken to Spencer about it in a fit of 'hey best friend listen to this' gossip, and Spencer agreed that Brendon was likely in the exact same headspace. Evidently, Brendon was a pretty good actor. Ryan kept his small smile, reserving any panic for now, and let his arms slowly drop as well.

Ryan, I- I can’t. Ryan's smile faded a little but not totally, expression slightly confused, and he tried to meet Brendon's gaze only to find him focused fixedly on the floor. Can’t do- this. Us. It’s too much. Too soon. Too fast. That couldn't be right. It'd been a year, and then a friendship before that, and surely Brendon didn't mean any of this. He just had to think about it, maybe... or he already had, and he'd made up his mind before Ryan even asked. Ryan stared at him, slightly more scared, and couldn't find any words at all, mind totally blank except for a vague register of fear. I’m sorry. This is why I called you here. He didn't even sound sure of himself. If Brendon had no conviction about the matter, and had sounded fine moments ago - teasing, as a matter of fact, like he was perfectly ready to joke around - why was he saying any of it?

"Don't say that," Ryan said in a small voice, stepping closer again, hand gently settling against Brendon's jaw to try and raise his head, meet his eyeline. "Hey, you don't have to- you don't have to do that. We can wait a little while, okay? Just think before you..." Wait. If this was why Brendon called him here, then that wasn't the only reason. He paused, considering, and studied Brendon for a moment, feeling cold. "Why? What are you afraid of?" If Brendon was serious, had thought this through, then Ryan didn't want to convince him otherwise - it sounded more than a little manipulative. He just wanted to hear him out.

Brendon had never imagined himself getting married, ever- all the way from his youth, through to- well, still his youth, really; and that was the problem. He was young, and had no experience with committed, serious relationships aside from 8 months of flirting and a year-long relationship with Ryan, his celebrity crush, turned his bandmate, turned his boyfriend. It wasn’t just even marriage- that would be years away from anybody at Brendon’s age, usually, anyway- any serious marker made him nervous, their year anniversary made him anxious beyond explanation. It was strange, considering they’d both confessed to eachother by the lake that they were in love- not that they just liked eachother, they were in love. Brendon was in many ways much more comfortable with the raw emotion and passion he experienced with Ryan than he was with the official couple ‘things’ they had to do- like, move in, meet the parents (not that either of them seemed particularly fond of that idea, for reasons they had actually discussed), meet year markers, get pets, get married, all of that that should have been exciting but Brendon just found it beyond nerve-racking, immobilising. He would have been perfectly fine with continuing as they did, taking it day by day, spending entire days in bed entangled together, just being them, simple, in love. He wanted to absorb every moment of the present and the past but it frightened him to speculate about their future.

Maybe it was what he’d seen from his upbringing- Mormon marriage, often strained, forced, like they stayed together because it would be too much hassle and judgement to break it off. He didn’t want that, but he’d started thinking- he and Ryan had been dating for a year, they were in love. If they did this any longer, say, two, three, four years, if either of them got cold feet (which Brendon usually didn’t even consider- like he said, he detested planning ahead, but anxiety did stuff to a guy), to break it off would mean they’d wasted years of their life in a relationship that ended in tatters. Brendon was a surprisingly black and white thinker, and the paranoia of that happening as well as his fear that he or Ryan had just settled on the first guy/first person they’d ever properly dated meant that his anxiety about it elevated until he felt like the only way to stop it ending on a much worse note was to end it now, save unnecessary longevity when the pain at the end was inevitable. If he stopped to breathe and think and actually talk to Ryan, maybe he’d see he was overreacting- but to Brendon, it was all stressing him out too much to handle.

Until he ended up in Ryan’s arms, and for a moment, he felt at peace. This was the man he’d fallen in love with- his eyes, his arms, his hands, his mouth, his voice, everything- if what he felt was really so strong, why did he have doubts? And that there set him off again. He had doubts- did he really feel legitimately in love? Was the feeling he perceived to be love something else, fabricated, a case of mistaken identity? Brendon’s mind worked too fast for him to even keep track of it, so he just shut his eyes tight to try and block it out, but it made it worse. In an attempt to distract himself, he leaned up, planted a gentle kiss on his jaw. They were fine. But then Ryan unintentionally pushed him over the edge and it was all too much for him. He wanted- needed- to get out of this before it overwhelmed him. Brendon stepped back, stepped out of Ryan’s familiar, comforting embrace, away from the pulse of his heartbeat under his v-neck. Brendon’s stomach twisted. He’d have to give clothes back, he’d have to take his things from Ryan’s apartment, Brendon you’re a fucking idiot, why do you have to overreact to everything. Ryan looked surprised, but he was still smiling. Brendon’s shoulder’s were frozen, and when he stuttered out what was intended to be a breakup speech, he saw the small smile playing on Ryan’s lips fade in an instant.

Don’t say that. Brendon felt a sharp pain in his chest when he heard Ryan’s deflated voice, and though he willed himself to, he didn’t move back when Ryan reached up and cradled his jaw gently. Brendon could barely bring himself to meet his eyes, but he did- his own were starting to sting already. He’d never anticipated that he’d cry; yeah, he was an emotional person in general, but he figured that because this breakup made sense, it wouldn’t be so goddamn difficult. He was wrong. Hey, you don’t have to- you don’t have to do that. We can wait a little while, okay? Didn’t have to do what? Move in him, or break up with him? Brendon distantly supposed that both were relevant, and though Brendon was appreciative that Ryan instantly backtracked upon learning Brendon wasn’t comfortable making that step, this breakup hadn’t been a spontaneous decision. Sure, it was Ryan’s proposal of moving in together that pushed him over the edge, but he’d come to the decision because of multiple different reasons. ”I know, Ry, I just-“

Just think before you... ”I have thought,” He cut in, attempting to sound assured, but only achieving a wavering, shaky tone that made it obvious he was on the verge of tears. Brendon was the one doing the ‘dumping’ here- why was he crying? Why did Ryan seem largely calm, collected? What was probably a carefully controlled defence mechanism only achieved making Brendon doubt even more than Ryan really loved him. And to doubt that was awful. Why? What are you afraid of? Brendon looked down, swallowed, habitually but harshly dragged his hand through his hair and pushed it back so it was out of his eyes. ”I- Ryan, you know- You’re my first boyfriend.” He began, shifting on his feet, arms crossed over his chest, defensive. ”I’m the first guy you’ve ever dated. I fucking- What if you’ve just settled for the first one you liked? Neither of us have ever been in love- what if- what if you don’t love me? How would you even know?” Brendon looked lost, like he couldn’t find the words to make this sound less like a complete overreaction.

This wasn't just unexpected - it was like nothing he'd experienced before. Obviously Ryan had been through plenty of breakups, and he'd spent his time on either side of the deal. When he was breaking up with someone it was because he'd picked up on the toxicity befote it got out of control, or he just knew they weren't compatible already, or he'd realized that what was probably an impulsive hookup wasn't supposed to be a long-term relationship. When he was broken up with, usually he had something about himself to improve upon and generally he did, otherwise he was blind to some issues that the girl wasn't, fortunately enough. Or there were the occasions where things ended because they just weren't meant to be together longer than, maybe, a month or so, and both of them knew it. Brendon, though - he was the real deal. Ryan knew from the start that, if they weren't going to end up together forever, they were at least going to last for a long time. It was just... simple, so easy to see, for him. Apparently assuming that the feeling was mutual was the wrong thing to do.

And then there was the fact that none of those splits looked like this. Even in his last longest relationship the hurt wasn't so terrible; it was a painful conversation, first of all, because Ryan already had trouble talking about anything too much with the wrong people so of course an hours-long talk about how 'this isn't working' and 'we need to go our separate ways' sucked big time. Then all of their mutual friends had to migrate to whoever they chose, because for whatever reason they couldn't stay friends themselves... and then the month-long recovery period, realizing that all the things he'd become used to doing with someone else he now unquestionably had to do alone, and the person he'd picked up the phone for automatically when he had anything on his mind was no longer readily available like that, and, obviously, the hurt. Even if he wasn't really fully invested emotionally in any of his past relationships compared to how he was with Brendon, they still took a toll, still made his heart ache every time. And, already, maybe a minute into him and Brendon only potentially being over, this was worse than any of that.

Brendon looked like he was going to cry himself. Ryan really, really wasn't ready to see that. As quickly as possible, Ryan started trying to turn back the clock, undo his proposition since it seemed to push Brendon over the edge - but that was a little unfair. Brendon wasn't the type to cut ties just because of one question. He must've been thinking about it for some time, but Ryan didn't even want to consider that, so he kept trying to backtrack anyway. I know, Ry, I just- Quicker. With urgency, Ryan cut in, something like a panic alarm going off in his head. I have thought. Ryan pursed his lips in a furthered effort to control his expression, because hearing Brendon's voice tremble like that hurt about as much as hearing him say all of this. It was becoming even harder to ignore the shine in his eyes so telltale of incoming tears, and Ryan's hand cupping his jaw soothed over his skin before coming to rest again, trying to calm him down.

He looked down but Ryan kept his gaze fixedly on Brendon, just as uncomfortable yet oddly unable to look away like he might usually. He was transfixed - this seemed so unreal. Ryan let his hand drop the more Brendon shifted, where it became more difficult to stay connected to him, but not totally; instead he switched to holding loosely onto Brendon's waist again, ignoring the way he crossed his arms to fend off any sort of contact like that, because it seemed like if too much distance got between them then this would suddenly become real. Ryan wasn't ready for that. I- Ryan, you know- You’re my first boyfriend. I’m the first guy you’ve ever dated. Okay, true, and Ryan was nodding slowly but incessantly, mind running fast and chaotic. He felt a little worse for Brendon in this situation. No experience before, and then something like what they had... he didn't blame him for having doubts, really. He just didn't want to accept that these were reasonable fears to have, that Brendon's reaction wasn't actually that unbelievable.

I fucking- What if you’ve just settled for the first one you liked? Ryan grinned for half a second, hysterical, like that was ridiculous, like it was a joke, then dropped it, expression hurt/confused again. Good question, but Ryan wasn't even considering it. There's no way Brendon was 'settling' - you settled for someone typical, someone predictable and mediocre and boring. Brendon was anything but. Neither of us have ever been in love- what if- what if you don’t love me? How would you even know? Ryan shook his head quickly this time, one hand moving up to clutch one of Brendon's crossed arms just below his shoulder, closing more space desperately. "Brendon, Brendon- I know, trust me," he fretted, gaze moving fast over his face. He still didn't seem all that sure, Ryan just didn't know how to break the wall there. "I love you. I'm in love with you, actually. I have been for a year and a half. Consistently. With no doubts." For once his voice was more controlled than Brendon's tremorous one, trying to convey how sure he was, wipe away any of Brendon's concerns.

But. Brendon didn't just mean he was worried about how dedicated Ryan was. That, he wasn't so sure how to fix. Ryan paused, his hold on Brendon loosening, face dropping more - if it was possible. "I used to get scared, too. But it never lasted. So... I'm sure. I mean- how long have you..." Ryan stopped again, stunted, and already his mind was coming up with crazy ideas, but he voiced it anyway. "Did you... ever think of us in the long-term?" He definitely wasn't trying to sound so. Affected, whatever. But at this point he couldn't help but wonder what Brendon was expecting, when he was going to tell Ryan that he'd been thinking all of this behind the scenes, freaking out without communicating it.

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