Chapter Text
"I need to go away for awhile," Shane said.
Ryan looked up from his phone, his glasses low on his nose, "What."
"I've been holding something off," Shane continued, shifting on his feet in the doorway. He held an empty backpack in his left hand and his phone in the other and he looked positively sick. Ryan placed his phone screen-down on the comforter and untucked his legs, looking like he wanted to walk over and do something, but he just stayed on the mattress, waiting. "I don't want it to affect you and Wyatt. So I need to go away for awhile."
"Okay, um." Ryan blinked a few times. He slid his glasses from his nose, "Can I... Can I ask? What the something is?"
Shane rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah," he said, his voice cracking. Ryan went to stand and comfort him, but Shane sank onto the bed and placed his head in his hands. Ryan wrapped himself around his demon immediately.
"What is it, baby?" Ryan whispered.
"I haven't..." Shane turned his head to rest his hand-covered face in Ryan's neck, "Souls. I haven't had any since I met you and it's been really great and I'm glad I met you obviously, but I... I can't hold off withdrawal anymore. It's been a few years, I think I should just get it over with."
"Oh," Ryan said.
"Not that I would hurt you or Wy if I stayed." Shane peeked through his fingers to Ryan, "Never. It's just not very pretty, you know, and I won't want to subject you to that. I don't want you to see me like that."
"Okay," Ryan said, unsure as to why he was so gladly letting Shane go off on his own like this. "Do you need me to do anything?"
Shane hesitated but decided on a resounding, "No, I'll be fine. No worries. It's just... embarrassing, I guess."
"Take all the time you need." Don't go, let me take care of you, he thought, but Shane couldn't hear it. "Can we still call you?"
"Of course!" Shane let his hands thud into his lap, "It's not... I don't want to do this to stay away from you. I don't ever wanna be away from you, I love you, I just - " I'm afraid you won't want me like this.
"Okay," Ryan held Shane's hand in his. "Okay. It's okay. Do you... how long will you be gone?"
"Just a few days," Shane muttered. "I won't spend one second away that I don't have to."
"I believe you."
"Thank you." Shane looked so tired. Ryan kissed the side of his mouth.
"Are you leaving... now?"
"No, I was thinking I'd go in the morning," Shane rubbed his scruffy jaw with his free hand, looking at the wall, "I was thinking I should give some explanation to Wy."
"Okay."
-
When Shane told Ryan he was a demon, he'd expected something more than what he got, a lame reaction and a request to reach something on the top shelf. This was the first time he'd 1) told anyone who he was, and more importantly, 2) seen Ryan as someone he could spend the rest of his life with. The second part of this was something he wasn't sure he could admit to himself yet, so he placed it on the back burner, and instead tried to figure out what he was going to say to Wyatt.
"Should I..." Shane asked, his arms full of bags as he followed Ryan to the car, "Like, just? Whip 'em out?"
"Don't use that terminology when speaking about my son."
"No, I was talking about the wings, but I - Okay. I don't know how to do this," Shane said, nestling the groceries into the back of Ryan's trunk. "It took a month or two to tell you, I didn't think you were gonna respond like you did, so I don't know how Wyatt's going to respond either."
"How did you think I was going to respond?" Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow, leaning down to organize the bags so they wouldn't fall over on the ride home.
"I didn't think I'd have to worry about telling Wyatt, I suppose," Shane said, closing the trunk door and wincing at Ryan's odd expression. "Can you blame me?"
"Not really," Ryan said, wanting to reach out and comfort the demon but figuring it wasn't appropriate. He blamed it on his fatherly instincts. "But you just... tell him you have wings. I don't want you to tell him you're a demon."
"Okay," Shane said, understanding Ryan's reasoning and trying to smother the sting that bloomed in his chest. "So how do I..."
"Just say you have wings, and he'll say 'prove it,' and then you show him that you have wings," Ryan said, adjusting his warm keys in his palm. "He's five years old, Shane, he won't think twice about it."
"Okay," Shane said, nodding and moving around to his side of the car, "Okay, I can do this."
Shane had worked himself into a panic attack by the time they pulled into the driveway, wincing as he reached to unbuckle his seatbelt, "Oh, fuck, my neck."
"Calm down," Ryan said, unlocking the doors, "It'll be fine. You can take your medicine when we get inside, should chill the pain a bit."
Shane wondered if he should mention that eventually he'd be able to heal this kind of thing, but he was too weak. "Okay, thanks."
An hour and a pill and a half later, Wyatt was wrangled onto the couch and Shane was lingering nervously in the doorway.
"So," Shane said, sitting down on the couch next to Wyatt, who clutched his phone to his chest while leaning into his father's side, "I gotta tell you something."
"What is it?" Wyatt asked, tired and confused and already bored.
Shane froze. Almost as if he'd forgotten what he had to say.
"He has wings," Ryan said, instead, ruffling Wyatt's hair. "Like a bird."
"Not a bird," Shane said, breaking out his trance, his eyebrows drawn together. "But yes. Wings."
"Lemme see 'em," Wyatt said, looking doubtful but intrigued, sitting further up. Ryan nudged him with his elbow. "Please."
"Okay," Shane said, standing up and brushing his hands down his pants. "Can you, uh..."
Ryan raised an eyebrow, "What?"
"Turn around?" Shane said quietly, rubbing his hand up his arm, "I've never shown humans - I mean. Anyone my wings before."
"Sure," Wyatt said, covering his eyes, Ryan giving him a look before covering his eyes with his hands as well.
There was a distinct wooshing sound, as well as the tearing of fabric, before Shane gave the go-ahead. "Okay, you can look now. Be nice."
When Ryan opened his eyes and saw Shane standing there, framed by two elegant black wings, it was the first time he'd 1) seen a demon, and 2) seen Shane as someone he could spend the rest of his life with.
Wyatt spent an hour walking around Shane, asking questions and stroking his feathers and jumping up and down with excitement. Shane only looked to Ryan, who shrugged and sunk into the couch.
-
The symptoms had been building for years, Shane could feel them. The ache of withdrawal energy trying to worm its way through the pores in his skin, through the cracks in his horns, the tears in his feathers. It wasn't fair to his family, to Ryan and Wyatt and everyone else he'd come in contact with as he continued on the path to marital bliss. To domestic bliss. To happiness with humans, the happiest possible existence, the one he'd been yearning for over the decades.
Waiting for happiness. He'd do it all over again, if he had to, and he'd most certainly leave the house for a few days, maybe a few weeks, to keep his family safe.
"I'll be at..." Shane grunted as he dragged the bag over his shoulder, barely strong enough to lift it, "... a special motel. For demonfolk like me, so I'll be safe. And you'll be safe too, obviously, because I'm going."
Ryan shook his head and took Shane's face in his hands, "Please stay. Please."
"I can't put you and Wy in danger at my own hands, Ryan," Shane said quietly, closing his eyes as Ryan's warm lips pressed into his cheek. "Of all the things I'd do, that's not one of them."
"You couldn't hurt us if you tried," Ryan said, though he wasn't sure. He wasn't of many things when it came to Shane. Who was he, who did he used to be? What was going to happen now? "I don't want you to do this alone."
"I won't be that alone. You know where I'll be, and..." Shane said, holding up his phone, "I'll call you."
"I love you," Ryan said.
Wyatt peeked out from his bedroom, wilted with sleep, "Bird? Leaving?"
"Hey!" Shane said, his voice bright as he knelt down, the inconsistent thuds of a sleepy boy running as fast as his little legs can take him. He leapt into Shane's arms, knocking the demon on his back on the cold concrete stoop. Ryan winced, pushing Shane back up to sitting position.
"Be careful, Wyatt," Ryan said, patting his bed hair down, "He's a little sick, right now."
"I don't mind," Shane said, hugging the boy as tight as he could manage, eyes closed as tight as they could go. "I love you, Wy. I'll be back before you know it."
"I don't want you to leave."
"I don't want to leave either," Shane said. He pressed a kiss to Wyatt's head, looking up to Ryan with a smile, "Will you help me up, dear?"
Ryan nodded, teary-eyed at his demon, terrified to see the strongest man so weak, holding his hands out. "Of course."
-
"Hey," Shane said, peering into Ryan's room and knocking three times on the door to his right, "Wyatt's successfully asleep."
"That's good," Ryan said, placing his book face down on the blanket beside him. "It's funny how he'll only let you tuck him in, these days."
"I do the voices he likes when I tell stories," Shane stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned on the door for a moment, taking a deep breath, "Can I... talk to you, about something?"
"Sure," Ryan said, moving the book and patting the empty space. Both of them were aware it was the first time Shane would be in Ryan's bed, and if Shane had a functioning heart, it would have been beating as fast as Ryan's. "Go for it. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Shane crawled up, sitting on his heels, his hands on his thighs, "I just... need to ask you something."
"Okay...?" Ryan slipped his glasses off of his nose, folding them. "What's up."
"I... feel like," Shane said, tapping his thumbs nervously, "I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I feel like... we have this thing that's happening."
"What?"
"A thing," Shane repeated. "A feelings thing."
"Um?" Ryan fought the urge to smile. Shane was so nervous, but his message was loud and clear, and Ryan couldn't wait to tell him he agreed. But he wanted to make him squirm first. "I don't think I understand."
"Okay," Shane said, pushing himself to sit cross-legged, holding his arms out to gesture, "The other night, we were watching a movie and you fell asleep and your head fell on my shoulder, do you remember that?"
"I do," Ryan nodded.
"And you woke up, at some point, but you didn't move your head."
"I didn't."
"I'm not..." Shane looked away, rubbing his forehead, stressed out with all of his attention to his own feelings, "I'm not familiar with many human things, but I think that's like... a..." Shane paused, trying to get Ryan to fill in the blanks. Ryan didn't. "A feelings thing."
"Define, a feelings thing."
"Like, a human dating thing."
"Yes, it is."
Shane blinked. "Do you wanna do a human dating thing? With me?"
"I do."
Shane covered his face with his hands, resisting the urge to shout with unbridled glee, "Thank God."
"You can thank God?" Ryan asked, his cheeks warm.
"I can do whatever I want," Shane said, falling to the side, his head landing on Ryan's pillow. He sighed with relief, his neck finally healed enough to appreciate the softness of pillows. "These are nice pillows."
"You can stay in here tonight, if you want," Ryan said, off topic but completely something he wanted. "With me."
"This seems like we're moving a little fast."
"You've already been living here for a few months," Ryan shrugged, sinking down under the blankets. "I'm not gonna kiss you, though."
"Oh, right. Right," Shane said, untucking the sheets and scrambling into place. He went to turn on his side, but paused, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Dating me."
"We haven't dated yet."
"Then," Shane thought for a moment, "Thanks for letting me stay in here."
"You're very welcome, Shane," Ryan said, looking over his shoulder, "Thanks for asking to date me."
"You're very welcome, Ryan."
-
Shane entered the main office. The motel was dingy and small, but perfect. He set his bag by his feet, digging in his wallet for the card with the password on it.
"How are you doing, today, sir?" The woman behind the counter asked.
"I'm well, thank you." Shane fumbled with the card for a moment, holding it up to his eyes, "Is Room 17 available?"
The woman blinked her eyes to black. Shane smiled at the familiarity of it as she handed him a key.
"Thanks so much," he said quietly.
"If you need anything," she said, her eyes returning to bright blue, "Call this desk. We have suppressants, if you need those as well."
"No, I'll be going natural this time," he said. "I've got a family, I've gotta get over this somehow."
"Very brave," she smiled. "Your room is around the back, sixth door from the right."
Shane nodded, grabbing his bags and swallowing the groan of pain before it could escape his lips. He once could lift Ryan over his head with his right hand, now a five pound bag rendered him useless?
-
Their first date was interesting. Ryan dropped Wyatt off at his brother's house after school before running by the house to grab the tall demon, who had both managed to dress up and down for the occasion.
"I'm wearing my work clothes," Ryan said, glancing over at Shane, "That okay?"
"Yeah! Yeah, that's great," Shane nodded, looking down at himself. "Am I okay?"
"You're great," Ryan said with a smile. He looked back to the road, wondering if Shane was stressed out. He would be if he was on a date that may or may not decide how long he stayed at a certain place. Shane just tapped an indiscernible beat on his legs, looking from windshield-to-window.
"Hey," Shane said finally, piercing the air after a tension-filled minute, "I like you."
Ryan blinked, pulling into a parking spot and pulling the key from the ignition. "Do you?"
"Of course I do," Shane said. "I'm not very... complicated."
"Well," Ryan turned slightly, "I like you too. But I'm very complicated."
Shane shook his head, "No, you're not?"
"I've got a kid, Shane. That's pretty complicated."
"That's the least complicated part of you," Shane said, instead, reaching a hand out tentatively. Ryan took it. "The complicated part is trying to figure out what we do when we get in there."
Ryan looked toward the restaurant and chuckled, "We don't have to go in there."
"What else is there to do?" Shane asked, tilting his head slightly.
Ryan retrieved his hands, spiking Shane's fear to the roof of the car and beyond, and replaced the key. "Let's get fast food."
"Fast food!" Shane cheered, slumping back into his seat. "That's a good plan. It's been awhile."
Ryan and Shane sat in the parking lot, hands covered in grease, both probably laughing in incredibly unattractive ways, but neither of them seemed to care.
"This is fun," Shane said with a nod, piles of wrappers gathering in his lap.
"It is," Ryan agreed with a smile. "We should do this more."
"Yeah," Shane said. He froze, "Like, in this context?"
"Definitely in this context," Ryan said, somewhat eagerly.
Immediately after their date, they retired to the house to lay in Ryan's bed and watch terrible horror movies that still seemed to scare Ryan, and Shane was placed on protection duty.
-
The motel room was nothing special. Shane must have been spoiled by Ryan's hospitality, because when Shane used to sleep in these rooms, he considered them luxurious. Now, he could see them as they were, and they were falling apart. The lamps seemed one switch away from combustion, the wallpaper was yellowed and peeling just enough to reveal another layer of yellowed paper, and nothing smelled like Ryan. For the first time in five years, Shane felt loneliness seep into his sore bones.
Shane placed his things on the carpet, kicking his shoes off and crawling onto the rickety bed. His feet hung from the end of the mattress, but he was too exhausted and aching to care, and fell asleep immediately.
Ryan was having a rough time adjusting to a lack of Shane in his life. So did Wyatt. There was an empty space, an empty function to the house. Breakfast was lonely and overcooked, lacking Shane's never-failing internal clock telling Ryan to flip the pancakes and take the pans off the burner. Ryan's day seemed to last longer without the promise of Shane at home, waiting with hugs and insults to his annoying coworkers.
The worst part was that he could hear Shane in his head. He could hear his thoughts, the internal noises of pain and the small I miss Ryans and I miss Wyatts that dipped into his consciousness. He would text Shane when his boss disappeared into his office, telling him how much he missed him as well.
Wyatt's bedtime was inconsistent as well.
"When's Bird coming back?" Wyatt asked from the doorway, holding his pillow to his chest.
"When he gets better," Ryan sighed, rubbing his eyes before patting the mattress. He couldn't say much else. It was difficult trying to console his son when he, himself, was rendered inconsolable, "Come here, baby. You can sleep in here tonight, if you want."
Wyatt threw himself up on the bed, crawling to settle in his father's side. "I miss him."
"I miss him too," Ryan pet Wyatt's hair down, "But he's doing this so we'll be safe. Because he loves and misses us too."
The boy nodded and frowned, "Okay, dad."
Ryan hugged him close. "He'll be back soon."