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Even though it would be a lie for Brendon to say he had never imagined him and Ryan in certain compromising situations before, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that Brendon had never once considered not hating Ryan’s guts, not even for a moment; and definitely not for long enough so that they didn’t approach the morning after with an uncomfortable spite, and instead were in eachother’s arms, all soft, sunkissed skin (until moments ago when Ryan shut the blinds) and heat and Brendon’s eyes following and fingers tracing the scratches he’d left down Ryan’s back whenever he turned so that they were in view and within reach. He’d imagined Ryan in a lustful context but never one like this, where they’d be bantering, almost, Ryan laughing, the smirk plain and barely controlled on his face. It was still somehow surreal, felt unreal, even though he knew Ryan was flesh and blood and if he pressed his head against his chest he’d hear his heartbeat and grin as he felt it begin to speed up. Well, I’m sober now, so I guess we’ll have to try again. Brendon suppressed an outstandingly pleased smile. ”I suppose we’ll have to, but let’s see if you’re still willing when you’re sober and not still enjoying the afterglow.”

He was kidding, but only a little- the truth was they were unstable as a duo of any kind and god knows what could happen between now and the opportunity for a ‘next time’. One of them could snap and throttle the other, or something. It was an unknown but Brendon sure enjoyed fantasising that the next time they’d encounter eachother alone that they’d both be relatively non-confrontational. The one thing he hadn’t quite seen as a success here was that now, because Ryan apparently wasn’t too gentle when he was drunk, he was in a considerable amount of pain and walking wouldn’t be possible for a while, let alone performing on stage. Oh well. Worth it. I’m sure you’ll be okay. He so desperately wanted to whine and complain that he definitely wouldn’t be okay, Ryan had fucked up the whole show because he went too hard like a dumbass, but he also wasn’t quite ready to sink that low with Ryan yet. So he stayed quiet, just looked on. On the bright side, when I’m sober, I remember the whole ‘aftercare’ part. I’m nice. Brendon cracked up, tilting his chin up to shake his head in disbelief at the ceiling. ”Oh, really?” He inquired, eyebrows lifting playfully. ”You’re sweet, are you? Could’ve done with that last night, y’know, when I totally didn’t have a huge fuckin’ show the next morning.”

Staying on that wavelength, Brendon then humiliatingly misread the signs that he thought Ryan was making and interpreted ‘what now’ as meaning ‘how should we pass the time until room service gets here’. To be be fair to Brendon, the last question he expected from his arch-nemesis (he still had the honour of that title whether they’d slept together or not) was ‘what now’ as in ‘what does this mean for us’. Brendon didn’t know the answer to the actual question Ryan was posing him because it was so vague and far-reaching and all he could do was kind of hover over Ryan for a few moments before he caught the look in his eyes, one of slight surprise, seeing that as discouragement and sheepishly backing off so he was sat beside him. It felt distant and strange considering how close they’d been over the past 24 hours, and he poked him in the side if only retain some contact, even the most meagre source. There was a beat of silence where Brendon looked Ryan once up and down for the seventieth time this morning and Ryan simply stared at him until Brendon averted his gaze and admitted that he didn’t think it was deep enough to warrant a ‘what now’ conversation. Not that he was totally opposed, but- it did make him recoil slightly at Ryan’s forwardness. He hadn’t expected it.

The silence extended past the point of ordinary and suddenly it was uncomfortable. Brendon desperately tried to decide which would be less obviously an escape route- going for a shower or going to the toilet- but then there were a few smart knocks on the door of the hotel room and Brendon thanked his lucky stars for the convenient timing of the breakfast delivery. His jaw went slightly slack as he watched Ryan stand up but he started scratching his neck totally inconspicuously when Ryan shrugged on the robe. He sighed deeply, resounding, once Ryan was out of immediate earshot, and shifted around a little, fixing the bedsheets best he could so it didn’t look as- well- damning. Clicking his tongue, he sat up straight and pressed his back against the headboard, watching quietly as Ryan brought in the cart. Admittedly, it looked, and smelled, delicious. For a second he really did forget about the awkward situation Ryan had put them in just moments before. Managing a genuine smile, he shifted aside to leave room for Ryan to sit down. When he placed the tray down considerately he was truly enamoured for a few seconds- that tended to happen with Brendon. Check it. I call blueberry.

“Fuck,” Brendon cursed, but stared at the spread for a few moments before he made his decision and grabbed a simple, humble sugary waffle. ”Fine. I call everything else.” He wasn’t as hung over as Ryan was he wasn’t craving sugary and unhealthy food, but still. This would ease the baby hangover that he was starting to feel the effects of. Absently while he took a bite out of the waffle, Brendon noted Ryan sitting down beside him. And I think I've found our new tour costumes, whenever we rebrand. This is absolutely a look. Brendon laughed and dragged his attention away from Ryan’s exposed skin (somehow affected though they’d been fairly naked and lying with eachother for god knows how long now, he didn’t know what time it was), instead focusing intently on the waffle like it was the most fascinating thing on the planet. ”A look? You even sound gay. How did you and Keltie even-“ Hm, rethink that, Brendon. He ripped his waffle into many small pieces nervously.

The odd thing was that this was lustful, hanging in the air over their heads. The way Ryan tended to imagine when his mind got away from him and Brendon was particularly passionate on stage or he was unwinding afterward switching from costume to lazy-wear or he was simply laughing, tiny, basic things like that, that were so stupidly attractive on Brendon. So, his thoughts drifted, and never did they result in a scene like the one they lived in now, where there was no arguing or fighting or trying for an upper hand (though he felt the instinct to win one anyway for the briefest moments, occasionally). Things had combined into something better than what his rampant thoughts always conjured up. The less surprising lust factor lingered from the night before, weighing on his bones, settling in the faint scratches in his skin, a reminder every time he caught a glimpse of Brendon in this state he so was not used to - and this new, unimaginable sweetness, sort of, was more present, overlaying and leaving him unsure what to do with himself. It's not like he could flip a switch and suddenly treat Brendon as fondly as he felt, and he supposed it was pride, or just routine, that prevented him from doing that, but it still left him feeling off, unsettled. Off, but there was something else good, something promising. Maybe they weren't as doomed as he thought.

I suppose we’ll have to, but let’s see if you’re still willing when you’re sober and not still enjoying the afterglow. It was true that anything could happen between this time and the potential next - as unpredictable as they were, hell, it could be something incredible and restoring and relationship-changing, or it could be a massive fight that sends them at each other's throats again - but Ryan still looked at him for a moment, unreadable, thinking of words he'd probably never say. Didn't Brendon realise the afterglow was just him? Sure, sure, the afterglow he was referring to was part of the cause behind Ryan's current good nature, but he'd sort of deconstructed all of his thoughts about his lead singer in the past twelve-ish hours and therefore considered present company to be the most prevalent reason for his happiness... for once. Or he was right anyway and that was the afterglow talking. Ryan didn't much care. Either way, the person he was with mattered, and Ryan doubted he wouldn't be up for a repeat of this affair when it was Brendon. "You're pretty enough to make me willing," he said, like it was simple, not totally contradictory to their entire twisted relationship.

Sort of cruelly, though, Ryan took a little pride in how he'd rendered the band's best performer... unable to perform. Thankfully, it was not the typical 'I win, you lose' opponent scenario type of pride, more just intrigued by what he could do to Brendon that wasn't born from malice. He grinned when Brendon started cracking up, clearly done with him, and watched his face, tried to memorise the way he looked genuinely amused, content. Oh, really? You’re sweet, are you? Ryan's eyebrows rose, unable to shake the smile. "Well..." Could’ve done with that last night, y’know, when I totally didn’t have a huge fuckin’ show the next morning. He bit the inside of his cheek to stem the grin, now, averting his gaze. "I don't know that I ever used the word 'sweet,' but sure, if that's what you're into... Would've never guessed you preferred it gentle." Ryan pretended to hesitate, lifted a shoulder in mock ignorance. "Or maybe you're just being a baby." Ryan beamed at Brendon, nudging his side with his knuckle playfully.

Brendon seemed so caught off-guard by his inquiries that Ryan sort of regretted his bluntness, wished he'd let things flow on naturally and not wondered so naïvely where "they" were headed. He'd had this much luck letting his feet (and his credit card, and a plane ticket) carry him at random, all the way to Seattle, to Brendon's temporary bed, into his sort-of-good-opinion for at least a few hours. May as well not jinx it by starting to plan things now. Ryan always had trouble not overcomplicating things, though, so instead of letting it go entirely alongside Brendon's weird, vague response, he decided to torture himself over it all in his head anyway, try to maintain appearances outwardly. Thankfully the knock at the door saved them both (Ryan from blabbering because he had no way to undo his own dumb talking, Brendon from having to find some other way out of this conversation) and Ryan practically ran for the door.

For a second, he thought breakfast food alone said all of his apologies for him. Why else would Brendon's disposition shift so dramatically? Ryan sort of laughed under his breath at his expression, settling on the mattress and dipping his head while he sipped at his coffee. Fuck. Ryan shrugged half-apologetically and watched him intently, a little surprised he didn't jump to pour every topping available on a waffle and call for more whipped cream, or something. Fine. I call everything else. There's the Brendon he knew. Ryan was still tearing his pancake into bite sizes while Brendon looked him over, suddenly growing self-conscious despite calling attention to the getup himself, until Brendon's gaze drifted downward again to his handful of sugar. A look? You even sound gay. How did you and Keltie even- Ryan's reaction, starting vaguely amused, dwindled instantly into a sharp look towards Brendon, not one hundred percent angry but a little mortified, too, as if he wasn't prepared to talk about something he'd spent a night venting over. It lasted for a second, maybe two, before he made a half-assed 'tch' sound, taking a bite of his pancake carelessly. "Hey, I only started talking like that after I met you. Bad influence."

It took him a beat to catch on to the fact that Brendon looked like he wished he could take his own words out of the air, clearly instantly realizing his mistake in even mentioning Keltie. The corner of Ryan's mouth turned up, somehow forgetting the initial response he'd had towards her, replaced instead with a strange mirth towards Brendon. He raised his eyebrows at Brendon, preparing to tease the hell out of him, clearly past the faux pas already. "You talk about her a lot. Y'know, maybe she's looking for another gay boyfriend, you should get out there."