”Here’s what I think.”

Brendon’s lips, which had been pressed against Ryan’s neck, were ghosting closer to his ear, and he spoke into it softly before catching the lobe playfully in his teeth. He was kneeling on the couch (which was low, made of shitty fake leather and was decorated tastefully with a large red wine stain on the left arm) and he was facing Ryan, who had been previously slumped at a relaxed angle, but had now moved to sit up, clearly interested in what Brendon had to say. An amused grin flashed up for a second on Brendon’s face but quickly vanished, and instead he strayed across Ryan’s face to press kisses along the line of his cheekbone before dropping down to pay attention to his jaw.

”I think-“ He said, kissing his neck again, ”-That you should stay here tonight.” Another attentive kiss to his cheek. Brendon swore that he had intended to get all of this out in one go, but Ryan was looking so pretty, well, he always did, but his hair today- Brendon lifted a hand up from his own lap and curled his fingers into it, swept it sideways, shifted up to bury his face in it and inhale because he smelled so good, it was ridiculous. Honestly, he needed to spit it out before Ryan got bored and did actually realise that he was already late for- ‘work commitments’. Well, they were technically work commitments, but, it also wasn’t exactly legal work. Hence the quotation marks.

”Spence has it covered, y’know?” He continued, sliding his hand down from Ryan’s hair to cradle his jaw and turn his head so they were looking directly at eachother. Just staring into his eyes, Brendon felt a soft, lilting smile tugging at his lips and when he leaned in to kiss Ryan properly, hand still on his jaw, he couldn’t help but smile for real. It interrupted the kiss, but. He really couldn’t help it. He hoped to god that Ryan was feeling up for- putting work aside for the night. ”Y’don’t even need to be there, babe. They won’t forget you in a hurry, I know these guys caused you trouble n’everything, but like you said, once you said it to them straight- They know you mean business.” Brendon dropped his hands back down to his lap and straightened up, sitting back on his knees. You don’t need to be there. I can think of other things to do. Less productive, but maybe... Maybe more pleasurable.”

If that didn’t work, god knows what would. Ryan was very committed to doing things professionally and personally making sure sales and whatnot went smoothly- Brendon truly admired his work ethic, even if ethics weren’t exactly the root of his trade- but he hoped that, if he was convincing enough, Ryan’s mind would be at enough rest that he could skip work this time and leave them both some freedom to play. It was an elaborate plan that had started since Brendon had come over a few hours earlier; though Ryan’s rule of ‘Don’t get high off your own supply’ was one he stuck by strongly, most of the time, he’d been in good enough spirits that Brendon was able to persuade him using his weakness (which was, luckily, Brendon himself) to let him open a bottle of whiskey for the two of them to share. That was an indication that he was feeling generous, plus, they’d gotten through most of the bottle in a short period of time, so.

After studying his expression carefully for a few seconds, Brendon let his eyes drop down to Ryan’s hands, adorned naturally with an assortment of rings. A few of which Brendon had bought for him. He then let his gaze travel back up and, deciding suddenly that he was impatient, he moved decisively over and fluidly into Ryan’s lap, pushing Ryan (who had been facing him) back against the arm of the couch, so he was almost horizontal. Now straddling him, Brendon felt a little more convincing. ”Besides, you look so comfortable. How will you ever even manage to get up? I say stay with me.”

Here’s what I think.

Ryan had a tendency to look bored in these situations where he was actually wired, and now was no different - he half-mumbled a curious sound in response, looking interested but still utterly slack against his faded couch. His gaze didn't rest comfortably on any one place, instead lazily drifting around Brendon's features, then the curve of his shoulder, then the press of his hand against Brendon's waist, repeat. He shut his eyes for a moment when Brendon came close to his ear, feeling the gentlest nip, re-opening them when Brendon returned to smile and kiss him sweetly again. Ryan tilted his head back, feeling like the luckiest bastard alive, and secured both hands around Brendon's waist rather than one before shifting them into a comfortable position, clearly invested in letting this moment drag out.

I think that you should stay here tonight. He smiled slightly, turning immediately when Brendon kissed his cheek, almost in time to catch his lips with his own - but only almost. He chased, grinning in amusement, because this happened every single time Ryan had somewhere to go. This time it was... marginally more important that he actually did escape Brendon's unrelenting charisma. He and Spencer and their team had a customer who snubbed them out of payments, provided counterfeits when Ryan collected a deposit, was generally bad for business. And Ryan didn't really let that kind of thing go, not when he was losing profit from a buyer who needed about as much product as Brendon did: a lot. So, naturally, they were going to do something about it, because sonsabitches really think they could get away with printed bills, like Ryan wouldn't eventually see the discrepancy. Assholes.

Ryan watched him as he pulled a hand through his hair, came close just to inhale. Ryan had never had someone be this genuinely interested in him, and to leave him now to break some kneecaps really seemed like a bad idea. Ryan pursed his lips, hair sticking up at various angles above him. "I can't, darlin', you know it. A good boss doesn't call in." Or something like that. Hey, his best-known trait was never being a no-call no-show, always working and possibly overworking. Spence has it covered, y’know? He did not. Spencer could be mean, but he couldn't be truly vindictive, just kind of an asshole. Ryan was the one that carried out the hits whenever they had a deal gone awry, or any sort of shitty situation. Because he figured Brendon knew as much, Ryan raised an eyebrow at him, easily turning with the guidance of his hand and searching his eyes.

Brendon was the first to smile a little, and Ryan broke character just to match him, leaning up at the same time Brendon came down to kiss him right. Brendon's smile became too wide for it to properly continue and Ryan continued kissing him regardless, pressing smaller ones to the edges of Brendon's mouth, to his lower lip. Y’don’t even need to be there, babe. "Please. I always do." He was barely loud enough to actually interrupt, though. They won’t forget you in a hurry, I know these guys caused you trouble n’everything, but like you said, once you said it to them straight- they know you mean business. Ryan watched him silently, not willing to argue, but it's not like he was going to cut Brendon off in the middle of this tangent. He didn't like being the one at fault for him being pouty. Brendon sat back and Ryan trailed his hand down his sternum, over his stomach, as his arm extended to follow him.

You don’t need to be there. I can think of other things to do. Less productive, but maybe... Maybe more pleasurable. Ryan smirked, pulling his lip between his teeth after a moment of hesitation. He was cursed. He had a boyfriend too convincing. "I do need to be there. I'd invite you, love, but you're little and these bastards really are trouble." He smiled, lifting his hand and holding Brendon's chin delicately for a moment between his thumb and index finger as he called him 'little.' It was true, yeah, but maybe he shouldn't say so lest Brendon's puppydog complex came out. Y'know the one. Where they're tiny but act big and mighty. Ryan didn't think it through, though, because he was whiskey-warm, vaguely fuzzy and smiling fondly on a small scale. His tolerance was enough that he could split the bottle with Brendon as far as they had and not be stumbling and stupid, but really - if it didn't get you drunk, then it was a bad product, and Ryan only sold what he was proud of. Here they were.

Ryan kept his eyes on Brendon's in the moment that passed, waiting to be taken seriously, until Brendon's gaze dropped down to view his hands, the countless rings littering his fingers. Conscious of where his attention had gone, Ryan studied him briefly before finding a ring Brendon had given him, not even having to search, and spun it slowly, like it was his natural solution to anxious times. For sure, when Brendon wasn't around it was stress relief to toy with the rings he'd given him and remember that he'd be home to him soon. Brendon's eyes returned to him a couple beats later, and almost predictably, he moved right into Ryan's lap, forcing him slightly back against the armrest. Ryan cleared his throat imperceptibly and shifted his hips somewhat, adjusting them both once again. Besides, you look so comfortable. His serious expression broke, and Ryan laughed, looking enamoured. "Oh, please."

How will you ever even manage to get up? I say stay with me. Ryan studied him, amused, and placed his hand along the side of Brendon's face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone, for all of a few seconds. "I reckon you're right, it'll be difficult." He looked a touch disappointed for a moment, acting, before he slipped both arms around Brendon's waist, held him close, and stood up holding him in the same ridiculous position he'd assumed moments ago. Ryan tucked a hand beneath his thigh to keep him upright while he pulled his head back, enough to grin at him. "But I'll manage." He leaned forward and dropped Brendon back onto the couch, combing a hand through his hair endearingly before he stepped away. "As cute as you are, dearest, I gotta jet. Think I should take a crowbar? A bat? Not sure." Ryan passed by the window as he walked away towards his open bedroom, glancing out momentarily at Model Ts humming down the street, other cars veering out of their way. Bizarre.

So, sometimes Ryan did have business to attend to, and that business was often shady- not that Brendon had a problem with that. He’d been buying from bootleggers for a long time now. What he did have a problem with was being left alone, especially when he was feelinf extra affectionate; what Brendon thrived on, other than music and good whiskey, was attention. That said, though, Ryan didn’t have to leave him much- comparatively, at least, when you looked at how often Brendon had to go and perform or play the host at one of his lavish parties.

...Then again, so he always invited Ryan along to watch him sing, and Ryan never declined if he could manage it. And when Brendon was ‘hosting’ (like he did much of that even before the beginning of their relationship, his entire fuckin’ schtick had been being a practical no-show at his own event), the two of them tended to get comfortably warm-fuzzy from good liquor and disappeared upstairs, leaving Brendon’s plentiful guests unattended. They often awoke in the morning satisfied, so when Brendon came downstairs to survey the wasteland of his house, he wasn’t that bothered. He never really cared anyway, he had people he hired to clean that up, so he could spend valuable time in his lover’s arms.

So, though Ryan tried his very best to always be available, it turned out that tonight he really did have somewhere else to be. Brendon understood, really, but come on. Though Ryan was devout to his reliable reputation and never called in when he was required, even for Brendon, he still had to give it a shot on convincing him to stay. Even just for a little while longer. I can’t, darlin’, you know it. Brendon’s eye twitched. He was turning him down while calling him that pet name he could never resist. That was what Ryan used when he wanted something, and the fucking asshole had to pull it on him now, when Brendon was the one pestering him for his company. Honestly. Brendon sighed, still melted by the endearment like he was every damn time. A good boss doesn’t call in. Suppose not. Brendon knew he should just leave it, Ryan knew what he was doing, but- he was uptight, ran an unnecessarily tight ship, god knew he could afford to cut himself some slack, play it a little looser. ”And a good lover don’t leave me hanging,” Brendon argued, cocking an eyebrow and grinning as he simultaneously leaned in to attempt a convincing kiss.

Please, I always do. Brendon was losing hope at this point, but he was a real firecracker and devil take him if he was going to let Ryan go off playing outlaws over some printed bills while he sat around in his dumpy apartment nursing a bottle by himself like some lonely housewife. So he persisted, but only after leaning backwards, raising his eyebrows as Ryan trailed his hand down his chest. If he wanted it, he could have it, but no, he had to go and ‘break some kneecaps’ instead. Fool. I do need to be there. I’d invite you, love, but you’re little and these bastards really are trouble. Brendon scoffed, clenching his jaw, irritated. “I’m a grown man, Rowe. I don’t need protecting. Y’dont know what kind of shit I’d had to get myself out of back when I was just making a name for myself. Curse of bein’ out.” He knew what Ryan said was meant endearingly, and he knew it was because half the time he did act like some princess who needed waiting on 24/7. But he was pulling every trick in the book he knew to earn a little extra with him.

His pleading gaze fell down to where Ryan was playing with one of the rings Brendon had gifted him. Cute. Brendon had something of a thing for Ryan’s hands, for obvious reasons. He made that obvious by buying him god knows how much jewellery to adorn them with. Clicking his tongue, he then shifted over fluidly into Ryan’s lap, settling down so comfortable and naturally that it was clear it was his second nature to assume that position by now. Ryan was stronger than him, but he leaned back anyways. Good sign. Oh, please. Brendon shifted a little, hopeful. I reckon you’re right, it’ll be difficult. Another good sign. Feeling triumphant, Brendon’s mouth twitched into a winning smirk. But I’ll manage. He celebrated too soon. Brendon’s smirk faded and he opened his mouth to whine his complaints but Ryan just- picked him up, hand under his thigh. Like the opportunist he was he went in almost immediately to try and kiss him but Ryan had already dropped him back down onto the sofa. Fuck.

”Fucker,” He mumbled, folding his arms over his bare chest and slumping, sinking back into the sofa, full sulk mode. As cute as you are, dearest, I gotta jet. No you fucking don’t. Brendon stood up and followed him adamantly. Think I should take a crowbar? A bat? Not sure. Well, He was heading to the bedroom, so Brendon saw another window open as one closed. He didn’t notice the minimal disturbance outside. ”Listen, baby, listen,” Brendon began, his voice dropping an octave so he was now speaking in a soft, growling tone, like he was about to start singing. It was his stage voice- it indicated he was about to put on a show of some sort or another. ”So.” He leaned against the doorframe and his eyes followed Ryan for a second. ”You’re always early, right? Just to make sure. Way early,” He added. ”So- you don’t have to set off, yet, yeah? Just- twenty minutes. Fifteen, maybe. Specifics are down to you,” He grinned, arching an eyebrow. Just to sweeten the deal, he stretched his arms out above his head and clung on to the top of the doorframe, letting the rest of his body hang loose as the muscles of his arms and torso grew taut. ”Y’know, ‘cause you love me.”

So, sometimes Ryan did have business to attend to, and that business was often shady- not that Brendon had a problem with that. He’d been buying from bootleggers for a long time now. What he did have a problem with was being left alone, especially when he was feelinf extra affectionate; what Brendon thrived on, other than music and good whiskey, was attention. That said, though, Ryan didn’t have to leave him much- comparatively, at least, when you looked at how often Brendon had to go and perform or play the host at one of his lavish parties.

...Then again, so he always invited Ryan along to watch him sing, and Ryan never declined if he could manage it. And when Brendon was ‘hosting’ (like he did much of that even before the beginning of their relationship, his entire fuckin’ schtick had been being a practical no-show at his own event), the two of them tended to get comfortably warm-fuzzy from good liquor and disappeared upstairs, leaving Brendon’s plentiful guests unattended. They often awoke in the morning satisfied, so when Brendon came downstairs to survey the wasteland of his house, he wasn’t that bothered. He never really cared anyway, he had people he hired to clean that up, so he could spend valuable time in his lover’s arms.

So, though Ryan tried his very best to always be available, it turned out that tonight he really did have somewhere else to be. Brendon understood, really, but come on. Though Ryan was devout to his reliable reputation and never called in when he was required, even for Brendon, he still had to give it a shot on convincing him to stay. Even just for a little while longer. I can’t, darlin’, you know it. Brendon’s eye twitched. He was turning him down while calling him that pet name he could never resist. That was what Ryan used when he wanted something, and the fucking asshole had to pull it on him now, when Brendon was the one pestering him for his company. Honestly. Brendon sighed, still melted by the endearment like he was every damn time. A good boss doesn’t call in. Suppose not. Brendon knew he should just leave it, Ryan knew what he was doing, but- he was uptight, ran an unnecessarily tight ship, god knew he could afford to cut himself some slack, play it a little looser. ”And a good lover don’t leave me hanging,” Brendon argued, cocking an eyebrow and grinning as he simultaneously leaned in to attempt a convincing kiss.

Please, I always do. Brendon was losing hope at this point, but he was a real firecracker and devil take him if he was going to let Ryan go off playing outlaws over some printed bills while he sat around in his dumpy apartment nursing a bottle by himself like some lonely housewife. So he persisted, but only after leaning backwards, raising his eyebrows as Ryan trailed his hand down his chest. If he wanted it, he could have it, but no, he had to go and ‘break some kneecaps’ instead. Fool. I do need to be there. I’d invite you, love, but you’re little and these bastards really are trouble. Brendon scoffed, clenching his jaw, irritated. “I’m a grown man, Rowe. I don’t need protecting. Y’dont know what kind of shit I’d had to get myself out of back when I was just making a name for myself. Curse of bein’ out.” He knew what Ryan said was meant endearingly, and he knew it was because half the time he did act like some princess who needed waiting on 24/7. But he was pulling every trick in the book he knew to earn a little extra with him.

His pleading gaze fell down to where Ryan was playing with one of the rings Brendon had gifted him. Cute. Brendon had something of a thing for Ryan’s hands, for obvious reasons. He made that obvious by buying him god knows how much jewellery to adorn them with. Clicking his tongue, he then shifted over fluidly into Ryan’s lap, settling down so comfortable and naturally that it was clear it was his second nature to assume that position by now. Ryan was stronger than him, but he leaned back anyways. Good sign. Oh, please. Brendon shifted a little, hopeful. I reckon you’re right, it’ll be difficult. Another good sign. Feeling triumphant, Brendon’s mouth twitched into a winning smirk. But I’ll manage. He celebrated too soon. Brendon’s smirk faded and he opened his mouth to whine his complaints but Ryan just- picked him up, hand under his thigh. Like the opportunist he was he went in almost immediately to try and kiss him but Ryan had already dropped him back down onto the sofa. Fuck.

”Fucker,” He mumbled, folding his arms over his bare chest and slumping, sinking back into the sofa, full sulk mode. As cute as you are, dearest, I gotta jet. No you fucking don’t. Brendon stood up and followed him adamantly. Think I should take a crowbar? A bat? Not sure. Well, He was heading to the bedroom, so Brendon saw another window open as one closed. He didn’t notice the minimal disturbance outside. ”Listen, baby, listen,” Brendon began, his voice dropping an octave so he was now speaking in a soft, growling tone, like he was about to start singing. It was his stage voice- it indicated he was about to put on a show of some sort or another. ”So.” He leaned against the doorframe and his eyes followed Ryan for a second. ”You’re always early, right? Just to make sure. Way early,” He added. ”So- you don’t have to set off, yet, yeah? Just- twenty minutes. Fifteen, maybe. Specifics are down to you,” He grinned, arching an eyebrow. Just to sweeten the deal, he stretched his arms out above his head and clung on to the top of the doorframe, letting the rest of his body hang loose as the muscles of his arms and torso grew taut. ”Y’know, ‘cause you love me.”

Was Ryan maybe too work-oriented and ambitious for his own good? Before Brendon, the answer would be no (he just liked the financial security even if nothing else about his job was secure). Now, he was becoming more and more aware of when he turned down an invitation to stay a little longer, or when he had to ditch an event early to go take care of his own business, or when he couldn't meet Brendon at all because of an already existing appointment. He left room for his new lover, of course, because he wasn't heartless and he'd rather have time for both extremes of intimacy, thanks; even still, he prioritized. And sometimes it was very, very hard. Brendon knew his stupid angles. He would always be more important than an extra buck or some dummy who needed to entertain at a speakeasy - but let Ryan slip once for this ridiculously pretty man once, and he'd be doing it every time. So, yes, he needed to prioritize.

And a good lover don’t leave me hanging. Ryan grinned with him, aligning his hand with the side of Brendon's face when he leaned in to kiss him - and yes, it was incredibly convincing, but Ryan also had an incredible amount of willpower. He let his eyes slip open barely, only pulling away an inch to speak by his lips. "You sayin' I'm not a good lover?" His voice was barely a murmur, but then he laughed softly, pressing close again to kiss him more. Well - he could predict the answer to this one, because he was only a 'bad lover' if he did leave Brendon hanging, but still. It was a trap. As was kissing him this much. Ryan kept his hand curled around the base of his head but tipped his head back, after a moment, suddenly very conscious of the weakness he had for Brendon.

Thankfully Brendon was helping, leaning back and away, allowing some unfortunate space between them. I’m a grown man, Rowe. I don’t need protecting. Y’dont know what kind of shit I’d had to get myself out of back when I was just making a name for myself. Curse of bein’ out. Ryan blinked, watching him carefully and comprehensively - he hadn't meant to truly irritate him, really, but... it dawned on him, then, that the comeback was probably just a ploy for Brendon to earn more points. But it could also not be, so. Ryan gave him the benefit of the doubt. He definitely was not out - although he didn't deny it whenever Brendon's relationship with him was in question - and even if he was now, he didn't practically grow up that way like Brendon had. He chewed his lip uncertainly for a moment before nodding, searching Brendon's features. "Hey, you're right - you're right, I'm sorry. But I still wouldn't put you through it. I sort of like you, y'know." He grinned a little sideways, trying to wash the irritation off his face.

Ryan deduced from his quick movements that he'd been attempting to kiss him when he was dropped back on the couch, which was, admittedly, precious. Ryan smirked, stepping back as Brendon sunk into the cushions. Fucker. Yeah, yeah, he'd heard it all before. Brendon got up to follow him and Ryan regulated his pace, strolling on into the bedroom carelessly. Listen, baby, listen. He listened, vaguely, rifling through his closet and pulling a crowbar from a coat buried in the back. He tested it against his hand, knowing exactly what Brendon's tone of voice meant and knowing he'd be here at least another ten minutes because of it. So. Ryan looked back at him, the way he was angled against the doorframe, annoyingly pretty as always. He dropped the hand holding cold metal at his side, listening with as resigned an expression as possible. You’re always early, right? Just to make sure. Way early. "Yes, sir," Ryan said impatiently, tilting his head at Brendon. So- you don’t have to set off, yet, yeah? Just- twenty minutes. Fifteen, maybe. Specifics are down to you. Ryan broke out into a smile again, amused, because his boyfriend was ridiculous.

He stretched practically like a cat against the doorframe and Ryan looked even more amused, knew all of his tricks already (though they didn't lose their potency anyway). Y'know, ‘cause you love me. Ryan approached, using his free hand to trail down Brendon's chest again, feel the muscles he'd drawn tight. "I do love you. And I prefer to take my time." He paused, then smiled sweetly and gently tapped the curved edge of the crowbar to Brendon's chest as he stepped away. "Rain check." He passed him, went on to the main room again, and slowed in his tracks when he heard the distant sound of rushed, jumbled footsteps from the building's stairwell. That was a sound he knew all too well - and he had maybe ten or less seconds. In half of a second, sparing his time, he tried to plan this out but there was really no good way to go about an 'escape' even if they already obviously knew his name and address already; go out the window, and there would be cars lining the street, or at least cops planted along the pavement. Find another apartment to squat in, the door would burst open a minute later. Wait it out and hide somewhere inside, he'd undoubtedly be found. There was no way to access the rooftop unless he had some serious gymnast skills, either. So.

Ryan turned calmly, closing the space between himself and Brendon just a breath after he'd walked away, tossed his weapon aside and wrapped his arms around him. "About that rain check, actually -" he rushed, breaking off to press a drawn-out kiss to his lips, "- it might be longer than we'd like." Two or three seconds spent, maybe, and he was hurrying to make the best use of his time left, not bothering to explain; there was no space between them whatsoever, Ryan forgetting the importance of breaking apart to breathe, one hand splayed against Brendon's lower back and the other curled comfortable in his hair. Yeah, if he was going to get arrested in another couple beats, he was going to fit in as much as he'd just been turning down as he could.