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one
The first time Ryan knows for a fact that he’s going to marry Shane is the time Shane completely ignores the priest who knows more about this than he does and lies down in a fucking pentagram.
They’re not even dating yet.
But Ryan knows.
They’re standing in another house that is doing nightmarish things to his nerves, and of course TJ has the great idea to ask Shane, “You want to lie on the pentagram?,” and since Shane is physically incapable of saying no to just about anything besides Ryan’s ghost theories, the answer is Shane flopping on the ground, arranging himself accordingly, and grinning up at Ryan.
Time physically stops. Ryan can’t stop looking at him.
Oh god. He’s fucked. Shane is smiling and laughing because he knows he’s managed to poke Ryan in a sore spot, and that there will undoubtedly be an argument because apparently Shane was specifically created to piss Ryan off, and Ryan is done. Ryan is falling. Ryan has fallen.
And the only thing he can think about is that scene from New Girl, where Schmidt met Cece for the first time and declared he was going to marry her. Because Ryan is going to marry the fuck out of Shane. It’s decided.
“Rock and roll, buckaroo!,” Shane yells from the gross stone floor. Ryan rolls his eyes.
“I’m going to find a spider and put it in his mouth,” he murmurs to TJ, because he can’t properly have a Big Gay Freakout (trademark Curly) during a shoot.
(Later, he doesn’t manage to find a spider, but he does “accidentally” push Shane towards a door with the largest spiderweb he’s ever seen. The squawking lasts a full fifteen minutes. Ryan figures out he’s never been this into someone, even when they’re covered in dust and bitching about nothing.)
two
The second time Ryan thinks about marrying Shane, they’re writing an episode about aliens because of course they are. They’re sitting at their desks eating lunch.
“I am not crazy!,” Ryan insists once again. He takes another bite of his burrito. “You’re just awful at seeing the truth.”
Shane makes a strangled noise of protest around his lunch. In his haste to grab a napkin, he spills guacamole and sour cream down the front of his shirt. He throws said napkin onto his shirt where it sticks, as the plastic containers clatter to the ground. Shane swallows.
He looks directly at Ryan. Five seconds pass before they burst out laughing.
It’s nothing like the moment in the house. This is completely comfortable. Almost domestic. Shane has salsa in his hair, he’s dropped his glasses, where they are quickly accumulating dust bunnies, and he keeps groping around for his burrito until he knocks it off his desk again. Ryan can’t help but think he’s never looked more stunning, grinning ridiculously.
Gurl, Imma marry you, he thinks. I’m going to marry you, you absolute human mess.
“Get a room!,” Jen shouts as she walks past them back to her desk. Ryan abruptly stops smiling and shoots her the bird. Shane picks up his burrito off the floor and keeps eating. Ryan glares at him.
(Later, when Shane mysteriously disappears during a conversation at a meeting about keeping areas clean (complete with a pointed look at the Unsolved team), Ryan will be forced to take credit for the situation. He comes back to his desk to find one of the good brownies from the coffee shop down the street with a sticky note. It has a smiley face on it. Shane’s burrito shirt is still hanging on the back of his chair. Shane is nowhere to be seen.)
three
The next “situation”, as Curly will incessantly insist on calling it, occurs at the Buzzfeed holiday party. These things are always dangerous, in Ryan’s opinion. There’s way too much booze, way too much mistletoe, and way too many coworkers who behave like middle schoolers.
Which, of course, is horrible for Ryan’s problem.
He tries to avoid Shane as much as he can, but it’s pretty much impossible. The most he can do is hide in a corner with Pero Like, because they make a wall to protect him as soon as he looks remotely sad.
The downside about Pero Like, is, of course, Curly, who has deemed himself Ryan’s therapist for some god-awful reason. Curly, who has figured something out. Curly, who has elected to not leave Ryan alone.
“So,” Curly intones, swinging into the booth across from Ryan, two ridiculously pink umbrella drinks in his hand. “What’s going on, sad puppy? You’re too cute to look this way.”
“Nothing,” Ryan sighs. He accepts the artificial mess and takes a dejected sip.
Shane passes by. Maya and Claudia stand up and protectively flank Ryan, several feet in front of him.
Curly wiggles his eyebrows. “Why you avoiding Madej, babe? He hate on ghosts one too many times for you?”
He chews on his straw. “I can’t take a break?”
“Mmmm...no. Not you guys. You spend seventy-two hours straight with him sometimes and then the second you’re apart you’re like ‘oh I should text Shane, he’d love this’. Not you guys.”
“‘S nothing,” Ryan dismisses. “I’m kinda tired.”
“When you’re tired, you sleep on him. You cling. I have photographic evidence. Out with it, Bergara.”
“There you are!,” Shane exclaims in Ryan’s ear. He jumps about a foot in the air. It’s pretty clear he’s dealing with drunk Shane after he almost loses his balance, and then does, successfully landing in Ryan’s lap.
“How you doing, big guy?”
“‘M great,” Shane mumbles. He takes a sip of Ryan’s drink. “Couldn’t find you. Missed you. Always miss you. Better you’re here now.”
Ryan has to sit there and go through the horrifying experience of watching Curly figure it out. An evil smile spreads slowly across his face. He looks like he’s about to hold it over Ryan’s head for several months. Maya gives him the eyebrow raise. Claudia grins and mouths, ‘get it’.
He needs new allies/friends. The ones he has now are doing the opposite of what they’re supposed to do.
Shane has almost finished the drink in his hand. Ryan has a sudden thought.
“What drink is that, man?,” he frantically asks. Three-drink Shane is flirty. Four-drink Shane is sleepy. And five-drink Shane-
“Six,” Shane slurs. He sways a few times. Then he leans over the side of the table and pukes on Ryan’s shoes.
Five drink-Shane throws up. Every time.
Ryan rolls his eyes and pulls a stray bucket over. He hands it to Shane, who gives him a vague sound that seems to communicate gratitude, having stopped vomiting, and within thirty seconds, immediately starts again. Ryan gently pets the fuzz on the back of his neck and gives Curly a sheepish smile.
“I knew it!,” he crows. “Anyone else, Bergara, and you’d be freaking out about your shoes, but it’s okay because it’s him, right? Goddamn, you’re in deep!”
Ryan flushes red. Shane comes up for air and looks at him helplessly.
“You’re not gonna remember any of this,” he tells him, “but someday I will tell this story to embarrass you. I will tell the story of the time you yakked on my original series Js.”
Shane turns a dangerous shade of green and goes back in. Ryan gazes at him fondly as he gags, because Shane is still great and Ryan is still very much in love with him. Screw the public humiliation.
“I’m gonna marry him,” he blurts out to Curly, who looks zero percent surprised. “I’m gonna marry the shit out of him.”
“Fuck yes you are,” Curly says. “And I will talk about how I knew before both of you at your wedding.”
Shane leans against Ryan’s neck. “You’re gonna marry me?,” he asks weakly. “Even though I ruined your shoes?”
Ryan swallows hard.
“Hell yes,” he says. “I’m still marrying you, in spite of the fact you ruined my favorite shoes.”
(Ryan is correct. Shane remembers none of this. Curly, however, does, and continues to send him wedding bands, gloat on and off, and speak loudly about it in Shane’s presence. Shane is always incredibly confused, but Ryan always pretends like he doesn’t notice. When Shane’s not looking, Ryan saves some of the ring websites.)
four
The next time is when they’ve been dating for around a month. They still haven’t told anyone. They’re eating pizza and planning an episode.
The insane part is that it’s so simple.
Shane pulls the pizza into his half and Ryan’s half, and proceeds to fold it like a taco and eat it.
Ryan’s face grows hot.
“I’m going to marry you,” he tells Shane.
Shane acts like it’s nothing. Maybe it is. He takes another bite. “Oh. Sick. Okay,” he rambles with his mouth full, spewing crumbs everywhere.
(Later, when they fall asleep, Ryan can feel Shane’s heart beat. All he can think about is how lucky he is. Nothing else happens. Ryan is happy.)
+one
It finally comes to a close on a random Wednesday night around one am. They’re in yet another haunted institution of some kind. Ryan can hear Shane snuffling. He’s getting over a cold.
“Ryan,” Shane says in the darkness. “Are you awake?”
“No,” he says back. “I’m dead, Shane. This is my ghost.”
“I was thinking.”
Oh. This is a serious talk. Not a banter for the camera. Okay.
“About what?”
“Us,” Shane shifts to face Ryan. “Us getting married. Like, pretty much forever. It would suck if we got a divorce.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Duh,” Shane answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Ryan is an idiot for not realizing it. “You’re like, the best person I’ve ever met, and I’m like ninety percent you’re supposed to marry the dopest individual you know. You just kinda pick one and you’re like, yeah I like this one. I’m gonna affirm my commitment to him in front of our families and friends. And I’ve known I was going to marry you since I saw you sit in that chair in that one house and freak out because you were so excited.”
“No fair,” Ryan argues. “I’ve wanted to marry you since you laid down in a fucking pentagram. I told you I wanted to when you yarfed on my shoes at the party last year. I wanted to ask you.”
“Well, too bad,” Shane says smugly. “I win the dramatic love confession award. Yay me. I get to marry the sickest dude. Also yay. We both get to spend forever together and fuck till we die. What’s not yay about that?”
“Shut up,” Ryan says, and kisses him hard. “Shut the fuck up. God, I thought I was pining! You were worse than me!”
“At least I didn’t get super drunk at work and announce that I was in love with you to the entire Ladylike team.”
“I did WHAT?”
(Shane and Ryan get married in June. Curly comes, and gleefully announces both the party story and the Ladylike story to the entire reception. Shane wears a fucking alien pin, and Ryan gifts the ruined Jordans to Shane. They dance to ghost songs because they can, and Ryan lets Kristen sneak some eyeliner on him, but only once. The cake is secretly ice cream. Everything is perfect. Ryan rests in Shane’s arms, and thinks to himself, Gurl, I married you, and breaks into a laughter fit. When Shane asks what’s so funny, Ryan says it’s nothing. Things are good.)