Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“That does it for this episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved Postmortem,” Ryan began, winding down the episode. “Make sure you watch the episode this Friday, and then send in your questions to the Buzzfeed Unsolved Facebook page, the Buzzfeed Unsolved Instagram page, or comment directly on the video-” here, Shane threw an arm over his cohost’s shoulders and joined in, “-on BUN!”

Ryan let out a loud laugh at Shane’s comically pitched interjection. “And, maybe,” he concluded, an almost teasing note in his voice, “you’ll be in the next episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved Postmortem.”

“You could have a real shot at it, baby!” Shane put in with a wink. Ryan doubled over in a wheeze next to him as Mark rolled his eyes behind the camera; Shane could just barely see the fond smile on his face. TJ’s hand made a cutting motion above his head before he straightened up.

“That’s a wrap,” he announced. The rest of the crew began to move about, shuffling off to start the next part of production. Shane leaned back in his chair as Ryan finally lifted his head off the table, breathing once more under control.

“You’re horrible,” he declared, shaking his head.

“What?” Shane replied indignantly. “You totally set that one up for me! The next episode is the guy that got shot at a bar! Where he was doing shots,” Shane stressed, leaning in toward Ryan again.

“You’re still horrible,” Ryan insisted, pushing his chair back and standing up. Shane sighed good-naturedly and joined him, towering over his friend, as he was accustomed to. He followed Ryan as they left the studio, heading for the break room.

“I’ll grab the bottles from the fridge if you want to get started on editing,” Shane offered.

“You’ll probably grab them and be sitting down before I even get to my desk,” Ryan complained loudly. “Stupidly long legs,” he muttered, taking the turn back to their work area.

Shane let out a laugh as he kept going forward to grab their water bottles from where they’d left them in the freezer. Now that they’d both had their coffees for the morning, they were moving on to the bottles that a fan had sent them a few months ago. Shane had immediately loved his, which had “I ❤ THE HOTDOGA“ proudly emblazoned on the side with the names of places they had traveled for Unsolved scattered across the remaining surface. Ryan had scoffed at it in exaggerated disgust, but smiled at his own, which said “I WANT TO (WHEEZE)” with a small spaceship above the lettering and even more places taking up the rest of the space.

He made his way to the break room, grabbing the water bottles from where they rested on the top shelf. He filled each remaining half that hadn’t frozen into ice with water before sealing the lids and turning to leave. As he tried to take a step forward, however, he found his path blocked by a slightly shorter figure and felt himself bump into them. Luckily nothing had been spilled or dropped, but Shane immediately felt bad for the inconvenience.

“I’m so sorry,” he began, backing up so that he wasn’t right next to the person anymore. After stepping back and getting a good look, Shane realized he had seen the man around before. He had no idea what his name was and they had never interacted, but his badge showed that he was an employee rather than just an intern. “That was my bad,” he continued, “I wasn’t watching where I was going. You okay?”

The man, Dylan, according to his tag, glared nastily at Shane. “No I’m not okay,” he spat out. “I just got run over by a fucking giant and hit in the chest with a stupid-ass mug.”

Shane was taken aback by the sudden vehemence of the words. “I- I’m sorry?” he replied hesitantly, not quite sure how to respond.

Dylan shook his head in disdain, pushing past Shane and intentionally clipping his shoulder. Shane stared after the man for a moment, confused by the exchange. Shane was pretty sure he hadn’t done anything to him to warrant a reaction like that. He’d bumped into plenty of people in the past and no one had ever looked at him like he was something they had stepped in. Maybe he was just having a really shitty day?

Shane walked back to his desk, putting the encounter out of his mind. He just hoped that the guy didn’t make some poor intern cry with his harsh words.

When Shane made it back to Ryan’s desk, the man in question turned to look up at him. “Thanks,” he said, grabbing his bottle out of Shane’s hand and setting it down to the side, away from his work. Taking a single, large step, Shane had arrived at his own desk and sat down with a small smirk as Ryan shook his head.

“Fucking legs,” he said under his breath.

Shane’s smirk grew a bit as he replied in an accented voice, “‘Legs’ Madej, that’s the name! Don’t wear it out.”

Ryan barked out a single laugh before quieting, a smile still on his face. Shane turned to face his own desk rather than his coworker and begin his work.

They got in a couple good hours of progress, sprinkled with the occasional asking of opinions and jokes thrown between them, before a group walked past, loudly discussing where they were going to go for lunch. At the reminder, Shane looked down at the time to see that they only had a few more minutes before their own lunch break was scheduled.

“Hey Ryan,” Shane called, before realising that Ryan had his headphones on, listening to a clip they had filmed earlier.

Shane looked around his desk, grabbing an eraser out of the pencil cup he kept near the edge. He threw it in the direction of his friend and was secretly pleased when it made contact with the other’s body. Ryan flinched a bit, turning to face Shane with his headphones now around his neck.

“What the fuck, man?” he asked.

“What d’you want for lunch?” Shane shot back innocently.

Ryan rolled his eyes, taking notice of the time himself. He began cleaning up a little and grabbing his stuff as he replied. “Wanna hit that taco stand down the street again?”

Shane stood up, turning his monitor off and making sure everything was put away. “Sounds good to me.”

They walked out of the building, passing a small group from the marketing department that they had worked with a few months ago. One of the girls took notice of them and waved. Nudging Ryan, Shane waved back. Seeing the others, Ryan too waved and the duo made their way over to the larger group.

“Hey,” Ryan said with a smile.

“Hey,” the same girl from before, Dinah, replied, a sunny smile lighting up her features. “How’s it going you two?” she asked.

“Not too bad,” Ryan said. “Life’s been good, can’t complain too much.” This garnered laughs from most of the group and smiles from the rest.

One of the more petite girls, Cora, moved forward a little, eyes widening. “Wow. You sure aren’t skipping arm day. I didn’t know someone could gain that much muscle in just a few months,” she laughed out.

“If he’s not filming he’s at the gym,” Shane put in wryly, folding his arms across his chest.

Ryan arms mirrored the movement self-consciously. “That’s a lie and you know it,” he protested. “...Sometimes I eat popcorn.”

The statement drew more laughter out of Shane and the group. “Sure Ry, keep telling yourself that,” he responded, patting his friend’s arm consolingly. Ryan shook him off with a grin.

“She’s got a point though,” one of the guys said. Shane was pretty sure his name was Bryan. “You’re jacked dude!”

“I have to match the Big Guy’s bulk somehow,” Ryan offered, shoving Shane lightly, “and we all know I’m not gonna have a growth spurt overnight.” This drew another laugh from the small crowd that could clearly see the height difference between the ghoul-hunters.

The two caught up with the group for a few more minutes before saying their goodbyes, citing hunger and an ever-shortening lunch break. They walked side by side down the sidewalk, moving out of the way when necessary, and falling into a comfortable rhythm like they always did.

They grabbed tacos from the cart, both thankful that the timing of their break allowed them to miss the majority of the lunch rush, and headed back to the office. Ryan lead them to an open spot at one of the tables outside and they sat down.

Most of the meal passed in a comfortable silence, interrupted only by their occasional chuckle at something they’d seen on their phone and shown to the other. Towards the end of their break, after all of the food had been consumed, Ryan brushed against Shane’s shoulder to draw his attention.

“We still on for tonight?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Shane replied. They often met up at Shane’s apartment after work to hang out and unwind a bit from the day. Tonight, they were going to watch through the first Chris Pine Star Trek movie in honor of the Black Dahlia episode they had done recently.

“Awesome, I’ll head over after I make a stop at home,” Ryan said with a pleased smile. He stood up from the table and began walking back toward the building. Shane smiled after him and got up to follow. As he jogged to catch up to his friend once more, Shane noticed the same guy from this morning sitting off to his right. The other man (Dallon? No... Daryn? Wait, Dylan! That was the guy), was glaring in Shane’s direction and Shane quickly looked away, finally reaching Ryan again. He had no idea what this guy’s problem was, but he hoped he could go back to not seeing him again.

After finishing out the rest of their day, Shane and Ryan headed their separate ways, with Ryan promising to pick up some food on his way over. Shane opened the door to his apartment, nearly tripping as Obi decided to weave through his legs. Shane laughed quietly and leaned down to lift the cat into his arms.

“Hi Baby,” he cooed, nuzzling into Obi’s face as he moved into the kitchen. He turned on the light and set his cat down as he grabbed Obi’s food from the cabinet. The cat began rubbing against his leg and letting out small mewls.

“Alright, Obi,” Shane chuckled, “I’m getting you dinner, Baby Boy, don’t worry.”

The quiet patter of Obi’s paws as he raced toward the bowl on the floor filled the kitchen as Shane dumped some of the food out of the bag. He lightly rubbed Obi’s neck as the cat began chewing on the food before putting the bag away and walking back into the living room. He pulled the movie up on the tv and began reading on his phone as he waited for Ryan show up.

A few minutes later, Obi jumped up onto the back of the couch, headbutting Shane’s face as he purred. Setting his phone down, he scooped the cat up into his arms, eliciting a small meow from the feline at the change in position. Shane let out a quiet laugh at the indignation his cat was expressing. He pressed his face to Obi’s when the other began to headbutt him once more, cuddling him close to his chest.

His cuddling, however, was interrupted by the door opening and Obi’s head darting up to look at the newcomer. Shane froze, armful of cat still damningly close to his face, as Ryan shuffled in and placed the bags of food on the coffee table in front of him. Obi meowed once more and sniffed the air as Ryan reached out to scratch behind his ears.

Ryan huffed out a laugh at the position he’d caught his friend in. “Want me to give you two a minute?”

Shane kissed the top of Obi’s head before putting him down on the back of the couch again. He crossed his left ankle over his right knee and stretched his right arm out on the back of the couch toward where Ryan had sat down, the picture of ease. “Of course not, what makes you say that?” he asked casually.

The image was ruined, however, by Obi, who decided at that moment to shove his face against the side of Shane’s head, forcing a strip of hair to stand up oddly.

“Nothing going on here at all,” Shane continued, as if nothing had happened.

Ryan lasted all of a second before he burst out laughing. Shane felt a smile tug the corners of his lips up, no matter how hard he tried to keep a straight face. He sighed with a fake heaviness and turned to kiss Obi’s head again, booping the cat’s nose lightly with his finger before he leaned away to steal some of the food. Ryan’s laugh quieted to soft chuckles as he too began to grab some of the pasta he’d brought.

“You want something to drink?” Shane asked after they had filled their plates.

“Sure,” Ryan replied. “Is it an alcohol or a soda night?”

Shane snorted. “Considering it’s a Monday night, I’d say we hold off for a couple more days.”

“You’re no fun,” Ryan complained, shoving a bite of alfredo into his mouth.

Shane set his plate down and grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge, placing them on the table and starting the movie before grabbing his food again.

They made comments through the food in their mouths as they watched the various misadventures of Chris Pine and assorted company.

“ Fuck he’s got nice eyes,” Ryan stated at one point after they had both finished their food. Shane, who had been taking a sip of his drink, nearly choked as he wheezed. “What?” Ryan yelled out indignantly. “He does!”

Trying to speak through his laughter, Shane replied, “I’m not saying he doesn’t, I just wasn’t expecting you to start moaning out of nowhere.”

“I was not moaning!” Ryan protested. He reached behind him and grabbed the throw pillow before he swung it around to hit Shane’s arm with it.

Shane began laughing again as he shielded his face with the arm closest to Ryan. With his other hand, he grabbed the pillow from where it was squished between him and the couch and lifted it as a shield against Ryan’s barrage.

“Stop!” Shane wheezed out, trying to get enough air into his lungs to function properly. “Stop that you fucking heathen,” he said in between his laughs.

Ryan threw the pillow at him fully, leaning back into the couch with a wide grin. “Shows you to laugh at my pining.”

Shane quickly checked to see if there were any more objects near Ryan that the man could use to throw at him before deciding to risk it. “You pining over Chris Pine, buddy?”

Shane wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t have a bruise the next day on his arm from how hard Ryan punched him.

After finishing the first movie, the two had unanimously decided to go through the second one as well, “for Benedict Cumberbatch.”

After finishing that one, they’d said “fuck it” and had finished out the trilogy. By the time the end credits were rolling on the screen, Ryan was nearly snoring next to Shane, slumped down into the couch with a hand on Obi’s back. The cat was laying on Ryan’s chest with his little nose tucked securely into Ryan’s neck. Shane smiled as the song playing through the speakers faded out, leaving a softer light to illuminate his friend’s face.

Shane took a picture of the two before quietly standing up from the couch, making sure not to shift the sleeping figures around too much. He turned the movie and tv off before grabbing a blanket off of the chair next to him and delicately slipping his friend’s glasses off his face, setting them down on the table behind him. He gently shifted Ryan around so that his head was laying on the pillow near where Shane had been sitting, Obi still clinging to his chest. He threw the blanket over the two making sure not to cover Obi’s head.

He carefully leaned down to press his nose into Obi’s fur, mentally saying goodnight to the little traitor, before brushing back a lock of hair that had nearly fallen into Ryan’s eyes.

With a final smile at the bundle on his couch, Shane headed to bed.

Chapter Text

Ryan hadn’t been super pleased about sleeping on the couch, but he didn’t bitch too much about it in the morning, so Shane figured he was fine. He woke the other up with a cup of coffee and a nudge on the arm.

“Wake up, sleeping… well,” Shane paused. “Not beauty.”

Ryan groaned a muffled “fuck you” into the pillow before pushing himself up into a sitting position. His face scrunched up a little as he squinted at Shane who was holding up the missing black frames in his hands, his own pair perched on his face.

“Thought we could match today,” he joked as Ryan took the item.

“You were just too lazy to put in your contacts,” Ryan responded, rubbing a hand down his cheek before stretching his neck.

“Sorry about that,” Shane said, getting up and walking toward the connected kitchen. “You seemed like you were pretty out of it and Obi had made himself quite comfortable on top of you,” he continued, grabbing Obi’s food once more. At the sound of his name and the smell of food, Obi shot out of Shane’s room to rub against Shane’s legs once more.

Shane heard Ryan yawn as he poured out some food and refilled Obi’s water dish. The cat was happily munching on his breakfast, ignoring Shane in favor of the food.

Shane made a quick detour to his bedroom before returning to the living room where Ryan was still sitting. Shane lightly threw the shirt he’d grabbed at his friend’s head before plopping down into the chair next to his coffee table. Ryan glared at him for a moment before looking at the item in his hands.

“Thanks,” he said, getting up to change his clothing.

“Figured you’d rather not wear the same thing you wore yesterday,” Shane replied, scrolling through his phone. He’d given Ryan one of the merch shirts that they both owned way too many of so that people wouldn’t make too many comments. When Ryan came back out a couple of minutes later, hair also slightly more presentable, Shane stood up. Ryan made sure he had grabbed everything he needed for the day, stuffing his button up into the bottom of his bag, and joined Shane in front of the door. Obi padded around the counters to scratch at the door, looking up at Shane from between the taller man’s legs. Shane let his bag swing off his shoulder onto the floor before picking up his cat so that he could look him in the eye.

“You think you’re going outside, Mr?” he asked in a soft voice. Obi meowed in response and Shane smiled. “You know you can’t go outside Baby Boy, you’d get lost. You’ve got no sense of direction, buddy,” he continued, stroking the cat’s soft fur. He nuzzled Obi close once more before turning away from the door and leaning forward slightly, prompting the cat to jump from his arms and strut away into the apartment. When he had grabbed his bag again, he turned to see Ryan smirking at him.

“Can I help you?” Shane asked calmly as they exited the apartment, locking the door behind them.

“You act like this big tough guy whenever we film, but you’re a bag of fucking marshmallows, dude,” Ryan claimed.

“How dare you,” Shane replied in a dry voice. “Repeat such slander again and I’ll have my lawyers contact you.”

Ryan’s accompanying wheeze was the best part of his morning.

They carpooled to work together in Shane’s car, deciding that Shane would just take Ryan home with him to pick up his car at the end of the day. No one even looked twice as they entered the building together.

After dropping their stuff off at their desks, Shane took his and Ryan’s water bottles to the break room, leaving Ryan once again to get started on research for a new episode.

Shane filled the water bottles a little less than halfway before laying them on their sides in the freezer. He smiled and nodded at one of his coworkers that was waiting for her coffee to finish. She smiled back tiredly before giving her attention to her phone again.

Shane got back to his desk and sat down after grabbing a folder from Devon on his way back.

He and Ryan worked as well as they always did, making decent headway on a new episode. Shane wasn’t allowed to work on it at this stage so that he could be surprised at the information and give a genuine reaction, so he went through footage of the post mortem that the team had sent him yesterday instead while Ryan worked on the script for a new episode.

They took their break together again, grabbing lunch with Steven before returning to their work. They’d been back at it for over an hour when a shadow passed over Shane’s desk and he glanced up. He turned back toward his computer quickly, though, pretending to be watching something when he saw that it was Dylan from yesterday walking over to Ryan’s desk, along with one of the interns they often had run things between members of their production team. Shane was, like, ninety percent sure his name was Forest.

“Hey, Forest,” Ryan smiled, pushing his headphones around his neck.

Nailed it.

“Hey Ryan,” Forest replied, a matching smile on his face. “TJ wanted you to look over this,” he explained, handing over a few papers.

Ryan thanked the other man as he grabbed the sheets, already skimming through them. “Who’s your friend?” he asked absently, eyes scanning back and forth.

“This is Dylan. He’s over in post-production.”

“Cool,” Ryan replied, flipping through the pages as his face turned slightly more toward the duo. He finally tore his eyes away from the words and focused on the two. “Something else?” he asked kindly, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Dylan moved forward a little as Forest seemed to blush lightly. “I just wanted to say how much I admire your show,” Dylan said in an awed voice. Shane was shocked at the complete 180° the man had taken. If Shane hadn’t met him yesterday, he would’ve thought the guy was really sweet, probably a fan that had gotten a job here and was excited to work with the people he watched. As it was, however, Shane was mildly dubious.

“Oh,” Ryan said, eyes widening slightly at the compliment. “Thank you,” he added, surprised.

“Thank you,” Dylan continued earnestly. “Unsolved is so amazing! The writing is fantastic, the places you choose are always so interesting… You’re just such an amazing creator! I’d love to have something like that for myself someday, you’re a huge inspiration to me!”

“Well, I mean it’s not just me,” Ryan explained humbly. “I have a whole team behind me to help with the research and editing.” He leaned to the side slightly to look at Shane, a small smirk on his face. “And I guess Shane does stuff sometimes,” he added in a slightly louder voice.

Shane raised his eyebrows, slipping his headphones off his ears. “You gushing about me again, Ry?” he asked calmly.

Ryan snorted. “You wish,” he shot back, rolling his eyes. Shane smiled, leaning back into his chair and returning the smile that Forest sent his way.

“Thank you, though, seriously,” Ryan added on, a little more genuinely. “I’m really glad that you enjoy what we put out, and I hope that you can make something you love one day too.”

Dylan’s smile was almost blinding as he nodded. Forest said his goodbyes to the ghost-hunting duo and nudged Dylan’s arm lightly as he started walking away. Ryan raised a hand over his shoulder in farewell as he turned back to the papers TJ had sent over.

Shane was almost ready to dismiss the incidents of yesterday involving Dylan. After all, they’d all had bad days at some point, and Dylan had seemed downright chipper today. However, as the man in question passed Shane’s desk, and as Shane looked up to offer him a smile, he was instead met with a withering glare, nastier than the one he’d received yesterday. It only lasted a moment before his face cleared of its malice and he turned back toward his friend.

Shane was left stunned for a moment, reeling from the 180° the man had taken once again, returning to where he was yesterday every time Shane had seen him. Shane didn’t know what to make of Dylan. Was he really that upset about Shane bumping into him? Or had Shane done something before that he couldn’t even recall? He was pretty sure he’d remember if he had done something to warrant that much hatred, but nothing was coming to mind.

“You okay, man?” Ryan asked, looking quizzically over at Shane. He realised that he had probably been staring off into space for a while, racking his brain to remember any offences he had committed.

“Never better, baby,” Shane replied, shooting his co-host a smirk. Ryan rolled his eyes and turned back to his work, though the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

It was almost the end of the day. Shane was coming back from the bathroom when he felt a hand grab his arm and tug him to the side. He let out a quiet yelp at the sudden deviation from his plans as he was pulled into an empty conference room. The door shut behind him and Shane was about to start screaming bloody murder when he looked around and saw that it was Dylan who had pulled him into the room with him. He was currently scowling at Shane, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Not to be rude,” Shane breathed out, heart still beating a little faster than normal, “but what the fuck, man?”

Dylan scoffed in derision, but said nothing.

Shane had merely been wary of the other man’s mysterious hatred before, but he’d had it up to here with Dylan’s attitude.

“Don’t *scoff* me,” Shane demanded, repeating Dylan’s earlier noise mockingly.  “What the fuck is your problem? You can’t just glare at people and pull them into a room-”

Dylan cut him off angrily. “You wanna know what my problem is?”

“ Yes!” Shane cried out, exasperated.

“My problem,” he spat out, “is you.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much on my own, thanks,” Shane retorted.

“You get all this fucking fame and lenience because you bring in money for the company, but you don’t fucking do anything,” Dylan said, eyes narrowing. “Your friend does all the work and research, and you get to just show up, throw in dumb comments, and collect a paycheck.”

Shane couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Was this guy fucking… was he jealous?

Dylan continued. “You’ve got all these fans that think you’re so great because you’re on the show, but you’re just a huge waste of space- ”

“What the fuck dude?” Shane hissed out, beyond confused. He started for the door. “Look, I don’t know who pissed in your cheerios, but-”

He was cut off by Dylan shoving him back, forcing him into the table as Shane made to pass by. His breath left him again as he went into the table stomach-first. He gasped a breath in and coughed, face almost dropping onto the table as he tried to work through the sharp pain in his stomach and ribs.

“You think you’re so cool because you’ve got a few fans, but you’re useless,” Dylan sneered. “Your head’s so far up your own ass that you don’t even notice that no one cares about you.”

“Pretty sure my mom cares,” Shane replied, hand clutching his side as he straightened up.

“You think you’re so funny,” he mocked darkly. “You and your shitty puns, and your dumbass Hotdoga.”

“I don’t know about that one,” Shane shot back, “it is critically acclaimed and adored by every single viewer.”

Shane wasn’t sure how great of an idea his comments were as Dylan looked half a second away from just decking Shane in the face, but he didn’t exactly appreciate being accosted and demeaned by some guy he’d never actually interacted with before.

“No one likes you Shane,” Dylan stated bluntly, ignoring Shane’s comment entirely. “You annoy everyone you interact with. You and I both know that Ryan loathes your little segment, the only thing you actually contribute to the show. Any moron with half a brain cell could do what you do, and I’m pretty sure they could do it ten times better than you do. Though, that’s not exactly a high standard to surpass.”

If Shane thought he could make it past the other without being slammed into another stationary object, he would’ve shoved the other out of his way and left already. As it was, his side still hurt like a bitch and, though Dylan wasn’t quite as buff as Ryan, he was still nothing to laugh at.

“You know,” he began easily, like he was commenting on the fucking weather, “Ryan hates you.”

Here, Shane let out a snort.

“No, I’m serious,” Dylan continued, all wide eyes and fake earnestness. “You ever notice how all of his so-called ‘ banter’ with you ends up with you being insulted? Or how he’s always telling you to shut the fuck up? It’s ‘cause he can’t stand you. He was running low on options when Brent quit Unsolved, though, and he wanted it to work, so he picked you, and by the time he realised how truly annoying you are, he was already stuck.”

Memories of Ryan telling him to shut up on Alton Bridge ( their bridge, his mind supplied) or in any of the numerous old houses they’d filmed in flashed through his mind unbidden.

“You seem to know a lot about the mind of someone you just met today,” Shane offered instead.

“It’s not exactly hard to see,” Dylan replied derisively. “Face it, Shane,” he said, turning his back to Shane and slowly walking toward the door. “Everyone, especially Ryan, is sick of your shit. They just won’t tell you to your face. They play along while you’re around, but the second you’re gone, they drop the act. If someone replaced you on the show tomorrow, none of them would care. Hell, they’d probably be thankful.”

With that, Dylan calmly opened the door and left. Shane was left alone, side still sore and mind racing, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Where the fuck did that guy get off, assaulting Shane in the middle of the office? And why the hell did he hate Shane with such a burning passion? He was pretty sure he hadn’t murdered any of the guy’s loved ones, so what could he have possibly done to deserve the utter loathing the other seemed to carry for him?

He’d met his fair share of people that didn’t enjoy his sense of humor, but none of them had slammed him into a table.

Shane sighed, rubbing lightly at his side. He left the empty room behind and headed back to his desk, making sure to stay further away from the hallways this time.

He winced subtly as he sat down in his chair again, trying to focus on his work. It was no use though. His concentration was shot as his mind raced, replaying Dylan’s words over and over.

You know, Ryan hates you… he’s always telling you to shut the fuck up… he can’t stand you… everyone’s sick of your shit…

Shane knew it was all bullshit, no one is that good of an actor.

Well. Besides, like... actor actors. But Ryan wasn’t on that level, was he?

No, there was no way Ryan could hate him that much. Ryan was sweet, but if he really had a problem with you, he’d let you know. And sure, Shane teased him on and off set all the time, but that’s what they did. That was part of the bit they had going; Shane would insult Ryan and Ryan would give back as good as he got. It made for good comedy and it’d been so natural that it just slipped into their day-to-day life too. He knew tons of people that insulted their best friends, because both sides knew that the other didn’t actually mean it. Shane didn’t really think that Ryan was an idiot or a coward. In fact, Ryan was one of the most intelligent people Shane had ever met, and he was definitely braver than anyone else Shane knew.

Obviously, Dylan just had some issues that he needed to work though without involving other people in them.

“Shane?”

Shane jumped a little, drawn abruptly out of his thoughts by the sound of another person right behind him.

It was just Ryan.

“You alright there, Big Guy?” he questioned, eyebrow lifted slightly.

“Yeah,” Shane replied. “Yeah, no, I’m good. Just a little out of it I guess.”

“You sure? You’ve been kinda spacey and you almost jumped out of your skin just now. You looked like you saw a ghost,” he added.

Shane snorted at the wording. “The day I see a ghost is the day we’re both six feet under and I happen to see my own reflection in whatever afterlife there is.”

Ryan rolled his eyes at Shane’s antics, a small smile on his face. “You’re full of shit, Shane.”

He said it jokingly, but Shane felt like someone had poured ice into his veins. He mentally shook himself, ignoring the brief panic that had sparked in his nerves. He and Ryan said that to each other all the time.

“But don’t I smell so pretty?” Shane inquired, batting his eyelashes ridiculously at his friend. This got a laugh out of Ryan, helping to soothe some of Shane’s newfound fears.

Man, fuck Dylan. Shane didn’t want to question this. He didn’t want to doubt his best friend. He had no real reason to and Shane firmly told himself that he wouldn’t let the words affect him any more. He owed Ryan that much at the very least.

Shane drove them back to his apartment where they parked, sitting there for a moment after Shane had turned the car off.

“Did you wanna come up for a bit?” Shane asked after a few seconds of near-silence.

“Nah, I’ve got a family dinner I gotta get to,” Ryan replied, turning to grab his bag from the backseat. His eyes found Shane’s as he turned around again. “We can hang out tomorrow though, if you want?”

“Yeah, that sounds great!” Shane replied, awkward enthusiasm infused into every word.

Fuck.

Seriously, fuck Dylan. Why the hell did his words have such an impact on Shane? He hadn’t been this awkward around Ryan since their first month of knowing each other.

“Cool,” Ryan replied happily. They both got out of the car, Shane grabbing his own bag from the backseat before locking the doors. They walked over to Ryan’s car, Shane telling him to say hi to his family for him. They parted then, Ryan driving away and Shane heading up to his apartment.

When he opened the door, he was met by Obi staring up at him from the ground. Shane smiled softly as he shut the door behind him. He set his bag down on the chair by him before picking the cat up and holding him close.

“At least I know you don’t hate me,” Shane said, face buried in Obi’s fur. He could feel the gentle vibrations against his body as Obi purred in his arms.

He walked them both to the kitchen, gently placing Obi on the ground as he fell into the routine of feeding the cat. “Though,” he continued as Obi meowed softly beneath him, “I’m starting to think you might just be using me for food.”

Obi’s answering mewl did nothing to confirm his words one way or the other.

Shane lay in his bed, hours later, thinking.

Does Ryan really not like me?

Shane tried to think back throughout their time knowing each other. Ryan had always seemed happy around him. Well, unless they were filming a Supernatural episode, then he was usually terrified, but that wasn’t because of Shane.

Shane snorted. At least he knew his friend wasn’t afraid of him.

The bad thing was: a lot of what Dylan said hadn’t been… wrong, per say. Ryan did tell him to shut the fuck up a lot.  They did insult each other all the time. Shane had never stopped to think about it, but now that it had been pointed out, he couldn’t help but notice. And Ryan had been running a little low on options when Brent had told him he didn’t want to continue with Unsolved. Shane still remembered how panicked Ryan had been before Shane had offered to take over with him. He had been sure that the execs would take away his project, the one he had fought to get for so long and that was just getting started. Shane didn’t think anyone had expected the overwhelmingly positive response they had received, but Ryan had known that he could make it into something great if he was given the chance.

And god was he right.

It had all seemed to happen so fast. They had gotten their own studio, then their own network and their own team, a full on team. And Shane was by Ryan’s side through it all.

Had Ryan ever wished that it was someone else standing next to him?

Or. Sitting next to him, rather.

Whatever, semantics.

Another thing Dylan had pointed out was the Hotdoga. Shane knew that it wasn’t Ryan’s favorite bit, but he had video evidence of Ryan enjoying at least parts of it outside of the post mortems. And surely he would’ve said something to Shane if he had truly hated it so much? Shane would’ve easily wrapped it up and gotten rid of it if Ryan had asked.

Something else that asshole had said also found its way to the surface. He had said that the Hotdoga was the only thing Shane contributed to the show.

And that stung like hell.

Look, Shane knew he didn’t help out in the research, especially for True Crime cases, but they wouldn’t be able to use him as an audience proxy if he went in already knowing a ton about what had happened. That was the whole point of their dynamic, for fucks sake. And Shane pulled his weight when it came to editing and post production! He would spend hours pouring over the studio footage making sure the cuts flowed well, cutting out the bits that didn’t work as well as they had hoped while filming. And his work while they filmed was no small thing either. It took effort and practice to be able to spin an entertaining narrative on the fly like he did. It also took a lot of chemistry, which was honestly most of the reason why their show worked so well. He and Ryan were always able to play off of each other with ease.

That couldn’t be faked, could it?

Shane reached up to rub at his eyes. All of this thinking was making him exhausted mentally, but he couldn’t get his mind to shut up for five seconds so that he could try to get some sleep.

He decided he’d bring this up with Ryan tomorrow night when he came over. Better to just bite the bullet and get it over with.

He continued to toss and turn, mind running through all of the doubts that had recently sprung up within him.

He didn’t sleep very well that night.

Chapter Text

Ryan greeted him when Shane reached his desk the next morning. He then grabbed Shane’s water bottle and coffee mug, both of which were empty. He came back a few minutes later with coffee for both of them, and started reading through some of the research the team had found yesterday. Shane leaned back in his chair, eyes lightly closing as he took occasional sips from his mug. The coffee helped him wake up a bit, and eventually he found the strength to actually sit up and start his work.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Ryan teased, taking a sip from his own mug.

“Thanks,” Shane replied, pulling up his email to scan through before he started the heavy lifting.

“Rough night?” Ryan asked, eyes still scanning his own documents, making the occasional mark.

“You… could say that,” Shane answered vaguely, trying to focus on the words that filled the screen in front of him.

Ryan hummed softly rather than responding and they fell into a lull. Where even yesterday this would’ve been fine with Shane, comfortable even, now it stressed him out just a bit. Was Ryan glad he had fulfilled his social obligation to talk to Shane for the morning?

Shane mentally tore himself away from the thought. How could he think that about Ryan? His best friend was many things, but he wasn’t cruel. Shane was just overthinking things.

Their day continued much like it usually did, eating lunch together with Brent, before returning to work. By the time the end of the day was rolling around, Shane was starting to feel a little better. Ryan hadn’t seemed upset with Shane and had even laughed at many of Shane’s dumb jokes. He was going to spend the evening with the other man and let him know what had been happening the past couple of days. Maybe he’d even have some advice for Shane on what to do with Dylan, because Shane honestly wasn’t sure what to do there.

Shane was coming back from dropping something off with Devon, having needed to stretch his legs, when someone grabbed his arm again. Shane didn’t know whether to be pissed or terrified.

When Dylan shut the door again, Shane stayed still, facing toward the other wall. “Can I help you?” he asked coldly.

“If you want to quit, I wouldn’t complain.”

That got Shane’s attention. He turned around incredulously. “What?”

Dylan was leaning against the wall, looking for all the world like he could care less about the conversation he’d literally dragged Shane into.

“Are you- Did you-” Shane was so shocked at that statement that he couldn’t get his thoughts to form a full sentence. “Are you fucking with me because you want my job or something?”

Dylan’s lips quirked upward but he didn’t answer.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Shane wanted to scream. His entire world had been flipped upside down, he’d barely muddled through two hours of sleep last night, all because some asshole wished he had Shane’s job?

“No, I’m really not,” Dylan replied, pushing himself away from the wall and walking closer to Shane. He hated himself a little for flinching back closer to the table. Away from Dylan.

“So that’s what all of this is then,” Shane demanded, standing up straighter, putting his extra inches to use. He hated feeling like he was looming over people normally, but he needed all the help he could get right about now. “You’re fucking terrorizing me so that you can, what, steal my job? Get on Unsolved?”

“I don’t really give a fuck about being on Unsolved,” Dylan admitted, still coming closer. “I just really hate that someone like you gets to reap all the benefits from it.”

“Someone like me?” Shane asked, forcing himself not to give any more ground in the conversation, physically or mentally.

“Useless,” he said, repeating his words from yesterday. “You don’t have a talented bone in your fucking body. You just ride the waves made by the people around you for your own benefit while the rest of us are stuck where we are because there’s not enough room for all of us when your giant fucking head’s in the spotlight.”

“Fuck you,” Shane spat out as Dylan stopped mere inches away.  “I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, asshole, I didn’t steal anything from anyone.”

“What have you done?” Dylan asked, tilting his head as if he were truly curious. “Really, what have you done? Ryan’s the one that pulled the weight for Unsolved. And we all know why Ruining History really got approved.”

“‘The hell do you mean by that?” Shane demanded angrily.

“Oh, buddy,” Dylan cooed in fake sympathy. “I know you’re not the smartest in the bunch, but we both know you’re smarter than this. They produced Ruining History because it had Ryan in it.”

Shane had no idea how to respond to that and Dylan could tell. A cruel smile tilted his lips up crookedly as he continued. “Unsolved was doing so well that they were willing to okay a project that never would’ve gotten off the ground otherwise. They let you have it because they knew people would watch anything with you and Ryan in it.”

Shane hated Dylan. He didn’t hate very many people, but he fucking hated the man in front of him. How dare he imply that Shane had used Ryan to get his own project produced. He would never do that to anyone, let alone his best friend.

“I think we both know the truth here, Shane. You never would’ve gotten 40 views, let alone 4 million if you hadn’t brought in the Unsolved audience using Ryan.”

Shane felt screaming. He felt like punching something or, better yet, some one. Shane knew he hadn’t used his friend, he knew he hadn’t, but Dylan wasn’t lying. Shane had known going in that a good portion of his audience at first would be people that already watched Unsolved. But that didn’t mean that he had used his friend! That wasn’t why he had asked Ryan to do the show with him. He just wanted his friend there as support. He wanted to show him something he had created, the same way Ryan had made Unsolved.

Dylan didn’t say anything more, but Shane knew he didn’t need to say any more. He had Shane right where he’d wanted him.

Shane felt like he hadn’t breathed in hours by the time he heard the door open, breaking through the tension that had permeated every inch of the room.

“Shane?”

Fuck. That was Ryan’s voice.

“Yeah?” Shane asked, trying not to sound strangled. Dylan had backed off considerably by the time the door swung open. He practically melted into the wall for all the attention Ryan paid him.

“Are you… okay?” Ryan asked haltingly, stepping further into the room.

“Peachy keen,” he replied, voice on the verge of sounding faint. He watched as Dylan slipped out of the room with a satisfied grin on his face.

Ryan didn’t look like he believed him, but thankfully he didn’t press the issue. Shane didn’t know if he could handle it right this second.

“Ready to get out of here then?” Ryan asked instead.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

They walked back to their desks together in silence. They gathered all of their things, and walked out toward the parking lot.

“You still good to come over?” Shane asked, needing some sort of confirmation.

Ryan stopped walking, eyes widening, and Shane felt his stomach hurtle toward the ground.

“Fuck, Shane, I completely spaced telling you,” Ryan began, sounding frantic. “I didn’t even think about it, I- last night, Jake, he… he wasn’t looking good, so I asked him what was wrong, and he just asked if I would come over after work today. I was so freaked out, I told him yes. I completely forgot about our plans, I’m so sorry.”

Shane would’ve done the same for his brother in an instant. He knew how much Ryan cared about his family, he would never hold that against his friend.

“You could come with?” Ryan said nervously, like he was thinking out loud rather than offering.

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay Ryan, really.” Shane’s throat felt dry, even though he had drained the contents of his water bottle three times today. “Go make sure Jake’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Shane,” Ryan insisted, eyes almost pleading for forgiveness.

“It’s fine, Ry, don’t even worry about it,” Shane replied. “Make sure he’s doing alright, I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I’ll bring food next time, I swear,” Ryan called over his shoulder as he rushed toward his car.

“Yeah,” Shane answered softly, knowing that Ryan wouldn’t hear him. Not sure that Ryan would’ve been listening even if he could.

Shane felt like he was outside his body as he walked into his apartment. He barely took in his surroundings as he went through the motions of feeding Obi. Once the cat was happily eating, he felt himself walk into the living room to fall onto the couch.

He propped his elbows on his legs, dropping his head into his palms. Shane was shaking as the words swirled through his mind like a maelstrom.

Useless...

What have you done?

They produced Ruining History because it had Ryan in it…

Ryan hates you…

Shane took in a shuddering breath. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.

Fuck, maybe Ryan really did hate him. He canceled on him, he was always telling Shane to shut up, he mocked Shane constantly, passing it off as a joke; he’d even hinted on multiple occasions that he’d gladly kill Shane, given the opportunity...

Shane jerked up, standing abruptly from the couch as his breathing picked up heavily.

No.

No matter how much Ryan may hate Shane, Shane had no right to think of him like that. He knew that Ryan would never hurt someone, not even someone he didn’t like. Shane felt shame bubble up his throat, his eyes hot and stinging. How could he have thought that? How could he have put the man he loved more than anything in the same league as the sick fucks they covered on their show? He couldn’t even blame Dylan for it; that thought had been all Shane.

Shane quickly stumbled toward his bathroom, feeling sick. He collapsed in front of the toilet, shivers wracking his body as he pushed down the sobs that tried to come out.

No wonder Ryan didn’t want to see him any more than he had to. Shane had practically used the other man for his own show. He made fun of Ryan all the time, even when the shorter man was clearly afraid on shoots. He was pushy and clingy, he was disrespectful, and he was constantly talking about things that didn’t matter.

Hell, Jake was probably doing fine. Ryan had probably come up with it on the spot to make sure he wouldn’t be forced to endure hours more with Shane. He’d looked like a deer caught in headlights when Shane had asked him if he was still coming over.

Shane wondered if he’d actually had a family dinner last night, or if that had just been another way to get out of a distasteful obligation.

Shane turned his head to rest against the cool surface of the tub next to him. As he did, he caught sight of an unfamiliar white bundle in the corner where the wall met the frame of the door. Shane lifted himself up and reached out to grab it. He shook it out, eyes taking in the fabric he held.

It was Ryan’s shirt.

Shane sat there, feeling his fists clench around the soft cotton that Ryan must have left behind in his drowsy state the other morning.

The first gasp came almost as a shock, tears beginning to streak down his face.

The second came almost immediately after as Shane crumpled forward around the fabric he clutched to his chest desperately.

He lost count after the sixth heaving breath forced its way into his aching body.

Chapter Text

Shane didn’t see Dylan on Thursday.

He came in that morning, knowing he looked like shit after a night divided between sobbing into Ryan’s shirt, feeling shame and disgust at himself for dirtying the clothes that didn’t belong to him, and laying motionless in the dark as silent words from another’s lips battered his wounded mind.

He’d seen Ryan’s head turn toward him multiple times throughout the day, but Shane never looked away from his work. Not that he got a whole lot done. He felt useless, but he couldn’t focus on anything more than making sure his hands didn’t shake. Ryan had asked if Shane wanted him to take his water bottle for him early in the day to break the silence between them, but Shane had told him that he’d forgotten it at home.

He spent the rest of the day timidly answering questions with one word answers or hums. At lunch, Ryan joined the production team to celebrate the post mortem airing, like they always did. Shane told them his stomach wasn’t feeling up to the Indian they’d brought in and stayed at his desk. When Ryan came back half an hour later, asking if Shane had gotten something lighter to eat, Shane had nodded silently before turning his body away from the shorter man.

Every time he was forced to get up from his desk, Shane’s breath quickened, waiting for Dylan to find him again. Every time he was able to sit down at his desk without being forced into another empty room, he calmed slightly before the anxiety racked up another notch. He kept waiting for something to happen, but the day passed quietly.

By the time he was gathering his stuff together at the end of the day, Shane’s nerves were beyond frayed. He felt seconds away from losing it and breaking down. Nothing had happened and he was so on edge that he almost felt like he couldn’t breathe deeply enough. He flinched away as a hand touched his bicep. The hand immediately vanished and Shane spun around to see Ryan standing there, eyes as wide and Shane’s own currently were.

Ryan floundered, mouth opening and closing a few times, looking like he didn’t know what to say.

“Sorry,” Shane said, angling his face away from the other man.

Ryan was silent for a moment as Shane continued placing items into his bag. “Are you okay Shane?” he finally asked, voice soft and hesitant.

“I’m fine,” he replied quietly. He focused on the motion of his hands.

They didn’t speak as Shane finished packing, swinging the bag onto his shoulder and grabbing his keys off of the desk.

“Did you want me to come over tonight?” Ryan asked as they walked out together.

Shane’s heart beat a little bit faster. He wanted so badly to say yes. He wanted to reach out and grab hold of the offer that the other had left floating between them, an answer to all of Shane’s problems.

But he didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t want Ryan to feel like he had to keep Shane company, especially if he didn’t even want to be there in the first place like Shane suspected.

He was about to cave anyways, to agree like the weak being he was, when he looked up at Ryan. The other was staring up at him with an unreadable expression on his face, but Shane’s focus quickly shifted behind the shorter man’s head. He saw Dylan, packing up at his own desk. The man had stopped all movement to watch the two walk by, however, and Shane knew he had heard Ryan’s offer when Dylan raised a single eyebrow, face unimpressed and bored.

Shane’s head snapped forward, a swooping sensation turning his stomach. “Nah, it’s okay,” he forced out nonchalantly, the words feeling a bit like bile as they tore out of his throat. “I’m sure you’re busy, no need to shove me into your schedule.”

They walked out of the doors, Shane’s steps speeding up just a bit. He couldn’t do this. He could feel himself start to shake, but he didn’t want to break down in front of Ryan.

Ryan had other plans, however, as he quickly caught up, placing himself directly in front of Shane. He put his hand against Shane’s chest and stopped, forcing the other to stop as well. “Shane are you sure you’re okay?” he insisted, eyebrows furrowing together in concern. “It’s not-” He cut himself off abruptly, eyes fixed on a point to Shane’s immediate left.

“Oh,” he breathed out, swallowing after the word had spilled from his lips. Ryan let his hand fall from Shane’s chest and Shane felt a little piece of his heart ache at the loss of contact. “Sorry,” he said softly, backing up a step. He wouldn’t meet Shane’s eyes as he continued. “Sorry, I’ll, uh. I’ll let you get home then. Say hi-” he stopped again, seeming to debate whether or not to say the words. “Say hi to Obi for me,” he finished, giving a weak smile to Shane as he turned and walked away.

Shane stood there dumbly for a moment, head tilting a bit as his eyes drifted downward.

He saw his water bottle sticking out of the side pocket of his bag; the side that had been facing away from Ryan all day. Shane couldn’t remember putting it there.

When Shane walked into the work the next morning, Ryan wasn’t at his desk; the computer hadn’t even been turned on yet. Shane sat down, starting up his own computer. He began reading through some of the feedback from yesterday’s post mortem, forcing himself not to look up when Ryan walked in behind him a few minutes later. Ryan turned on the computer at his desk before walking off in the direction of the break room, holding a plain steel water bottle in his hands. He didn’t ask for Shane’s bottle, which was probably for the best; Shane really didn’t have it with him today. He’d thrown it at his couch as soon as he’d walked through the door yesterday. It had bounced off of the sofa with a loud clatter, rolling somewhere that Shane hadn’t bothered to keep track of.

The day passed in silence, neither saying anything to the other.

Neither moved from their desk at lunch, Ryan pulling something out of his bag instead and Shane feeling too nauseated to even attempt to put anything in his body.

Towards the end of the afternoon, the silence was broken, but not by Shane or Ryan.

“Guess who got nominated for an award!” Devon yelled out as she approached their desks. Ryan’s head shot up, some of his unease melting away to show incredulousness at the announcement.

“No way,” he breathed out, his lips quirking up hopefully.

“Yes way,” she confirmed, a broad smile lighting up her features.

Ryan’s eyes widened, the grin he was holding back taking its place as he let out a disbelieving laugh. He laughed again, eyes finding Shane’s to share his joy. His excitement dimmed a bit, however, at the look he found on Shane’s face, and he turned back to look at Devon, smile a little dimmer.

Shane felt his stomach roll at Devon’s announcement. He tried to show the happiness he truly felt for Ryan’s achievement, but hadn’t been able to school his features before Ryan had looked over. Shane was sure Ryan had only seen the sickness he felt, not any of the joy.

You don’t fucking do anything, Useless, You just ride the waves made by the people around you, Ryan’s the one that pulled the weight for Unsolved-

Shane could barely hear Devon and Ryan celebrating beside him, the poisonous words in his mind pushing away everything that wasn’t shame.

Of course the show was nominated for an award. Ryan was brilliant.

Shane didn’t deserve to be congratulated for Ryan’s work, though.

He forced himself to leave the loathing for later as he picked up on the conversation again.

“We’re going out to celebrate tonight,” Devon said, already texting them the address, Shane realized, as his phone lit up. “You’re both going to come,” Devon continued in a tone that left no room for disagreement.

“Definitely,” Ryan replied, moving back toward his desk in somewhat of a happy daze.

Shane realized she was waiting for his answer when, after a couple of seconds, she turned to look at him, eyebrow raised.

“Dev-” Shane tried, feeling queasy at the thought of celebrating with the team.

“You’re coming, right?” she repeated insistently. “No offense, Shane, but you’ve looked pretty horrible these past couple days. I think some relaxation would do you good.”

Shane wanted so badly to decline, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. And besides, if Devon was mentioning it, he must’ve looked beyond horrible lately. He didn’t want to be even more of a nuisance to her by making her chase after him. Shane knew from experience that she didn’t take no for an answer once her mind was set on something.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” he said, each word feeling like a mistake.

“I’m always right,” she replied easily, leaving with a wave to them both.

Well.

It’s not like she was wrong.

Shane sighed quietly, trying not to freak out in the middle of the office about the plans he now had for the night.

He carefully glanced over at Ryan as he placed his head in his hands, making sure to shield his wandering eyes from the outside world. His heart ached slightly at the sight of the other man softly smiling to himself. As if he could feel Shane watching him, Ryan slowly lifted his eyes to meet Shane’s between his fingers. Shane’s hands lightly fell away from his face as they held each other’s gaze for a long moment. Ryan broke first, eyes darting down and back up before he smiled shyly at Shane. It was a smile that, as far as Shane knew, had only been directed at him; in quiet moments at the office when they both decided to stay later than they probably should have; in the mornings after a sleepover at a haunted mansion while Shane gently ribbed Ryan for his unnecessary fear; this last Monday night as he lay sleepily on Shane’s couch, held down gently by Obi’s comforting embrace.

Shane couldn’t stop the answering smile that snuck onto his face. He allowed himself this moment to simply drink in the sight of the man in front of him, something he had denied himself for days. He could feel his smile turning fond and adoring but couldn’t stop it. Didn’t really want to stop it.

God, he missed Ryan.

So fucking much.

Maybe… Maybe Dylan was wrong? Surely Ryan wouldn’t be smiling at him like that if he hated him so much? Maybe he annoyed the other man and didn’t pull his own weight as well as he should, but he must have done something good at some point if Ryan was looking at him with those soft brown eyes and that sweet smile… right?

Ryan slowly turned his head away, eyes flicking between his desk and Shane’s face before they finally settled on his computer screen. Shane could still see the gentle upward curve of Ryan’s lips, though, as he turned back to face his own screen.

Maybe they could get through this.

Shane steeled himself. He’d talk with Ryan soon; after they finished at the bar, maybe. Shane might not like everything Ryan had to say, Ryan might even agree that Shane was fucking annoying at the best of times, intolerable at the worst, but Shane was willing to work with Ryan on anything he hated about the other man. He’d find a way to do more to help with the episodes, he’d stop with the puns; hell, Shane wasn’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t agree to serve Ryan every fucking meal on a silver platter if that’s what it took.

Shane just wanted to have his best friend back. He wanted to feel worthy of the other man’s company again, like he belonged there. Like he did before all of this started.

And he’d happily change anything he had to in order to get that peace back; to be sure that Ryan actually wanted him around.

Chapter Text

Shane let out a small cheer with the rest of the team as they gently clinked their glasses together in the air. He knocked the shot back, feeling the dull burn go down his throat as he swallowed. They’d already gone through two other rounds in the past couple hours, though Shane hadn’t gotten anything else. He was just on the right side of tipsy from the celebratory shots they’d shared and he didn’t particularly want to push himself over that ledge tonight. If all went well, he’d hopefully be having a conversation with Ryan after they left, and that definitely wouldn’t happen if he couldn’t even walk.

Thankfully, Ryan seemed to be sharing Shane’s aversion to getting drunk off his ass. The shorter man had only gotten a single beer in addition to the shots and was slowly making his way through it, rather than throwing it down as fast as he could like Mark was doing.

Shane was quiet, taking a sip of water as he watched the people around him. TJ was laughing at Mark with one of the other cameramen that sometimes helped them film. Both were encouraging the man to chug down the rest of his drink. Devon’s lighter laughs floated between them as someone from the research team made a joke that Shane couldn’t quite hear. Other little groups of two and three were making conversation, some casual and quiet, others intense looking with wide eyes from the participants.

Ryan was smiling softly, politely listening to Forest’s story about something Steven had done when the intern had literally run into him the other week. Ryan looked… content. Happy. And Shane knew he had every right to be.

Shane couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He didn’t know what deity he had so thoroughly pleased to lead him to this life, to these people, but he was saying a silent thank you to whoever it was. No matter what they all thought of him, Shane knew he was incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many amazing people every day, to be able to do a job that he genuinely loved and enjoyed.

The night wore on, more drinks, laughter, and congratulations being shared, until people slowly began to make their excuses and goodbyes. Soon it was just TJ and Ryan left at the table with Shane.

TJ stood up and quickly came back with a round for the three to share. He placed a bottle in front of Shane and Ryan, both of them taking it with a grateful smile.

As they each took a sip from their drinks, TJ leaned forward a little. “So I gotta ask,” he started. “What’s been going on with you, Shane? You’ve been out of it the past couple of days and you were super quiet tonight, which is odd because normally I can’t get you to shut up for five minutes.”

Shane’s eyes dropped to look at a napkin on the table as he let out an uneasy laugh. “It’s nothing,” he answered carefully. “I’ve just been… It’s just been a long week is all, stress and what have you,” he concluded with a what-can-you-do shrug and another sip of his drink to occupy his mouth.

TJ raised an eyebrow at the explanation. “That’s some fucking stress,” he said dubiously. “Devon said you looked like you were going to throw up when she invited you today.”

Shane’s nerves, which had been lulled into an almost calm state by the past few hours, immediately made a reappearance.

“I, uh,” he stuttered out. “I wasn’t feeling super good. Think I might have eaten something bad at lunch, maybe.”

Ryan, who had so far been silent in the conversation, lifted his eyebrow questioningly. Shit. Ryan knew that Shane hadn’t eaten lunch today. It was too late to take it back, but Ryan, though he looked mildly suspicious, didn’t seem like he was going to call Shane out in front of TJ.

TJ also looked confused, but with an edge of concern as well. “That sucks, man,” he said earnestly. “I hope whatever it is goes away over the weekend.”

“Yeah,” Shane murmured, “me too.”

The conversation moved on, TJ and Ryan doing most of the talking as Shane tried not to draw too much attention to himself. Eventually though, Ryan got up to use the restroom, leaving Shane and TJ alone at the table.

“You should talk to him.” TJ’s soft voice broke through Shane’s concentration, pulling his gaze from where it had followed Ryan as he walked away.

“What?”

TJ snorted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “You think no one’s noticed the way you look at him?”

“Look at who?” Shane asked, not making eye contact.

“Do I really need to say it?” TJ shot back, lifting an eyebrow. “Look, everyone knows how much you care about him, Shane. I saw the way you could barely take your eyes off of him tonight. Just like every other day. However,” he continued, sitting up and leaning in closer to Shane, arms falling softly to rest on the table in front of him. “I also couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t say a single word to him tonight. Which, again, normally I can’t get you two idiots to shut up,” he said with a slight smirk. “So. I’m gonna ask one more time, and don’t give me that ‘I ate a bad burrito’ bullshit; what’s going on with you, man?”

“I-” Shane tried, eyes darting between TJ and the table. “It’s-” He couldn’t get the words out, feeling like they were stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth again, the words still not finding their way out, before he closed it in defeat. “It’s… complicated.” he finished lamely.

TJ’s gaze was serious and steady, as if he was trying to peer straight into Shane’s mind. He let out a quiet sigh and closed his eyes briefly. When they opened again, they were softer. “I won’t get into the middle of whatever you’ve got going on,” he said gently, “but… just..." TJ broke off with another sigh. “He cares about you too, man. You know? This hasn’t been fun for him either, so just… Whatever’s going through that big ol’ head of yours? Talk to him about it.” TJ stood up, pulling some bills out of his wallet to drop on the table. He took a step toward the door before turning his head back slightly. “It’ll do you both some good,” he concluded quietly. With that, Shane watched him walk across the room and out the door.

Shane took a moment to think about what TJ had said. He hated that he had gotten to the point where the other man felt the need to call Shane out on his shit, but he was guiltily grateful for the words. They strengthened his resolve to actually talk to Ryan. As soon as he got back from the restroom, Shane would bring up the idea of heading back to one of their apartments for a chat.

Shane was brought out of his thoughts by someone dropping into the seat in front of him. His eyes shot up hopefully, ready to bring the idea up to Ryan before he lost his courage.

But it wasn’t Ryan sitting across from him.

It was fucking Dylan.

Shane felt a stab of anger.

“What the fuck do you want,” he said flatly.

Dylan merely raised an eyebrow in response. “I saw your little lovefest earlier today. I almost threw up,” he stated calmly.

Shane’s face drew together slightly in confusion. “What are you talking about?” he asked, perplexed.

Dylan scoffed, leaning back with his arms crossed in a mirror to how TJ had sat moments before. “At the office? With Ryan?” he asked, as if Shane was slow. “You two were practically eye-fucking each other.”

“Wh- you mean when I smiled at him?” Shane asked, perplexed.

Dylan sneered. “Like that’s all you were doing. Every fucking time I see you two, you look like you’re two seconds from slamming each other into a wall to make out, it’s disgusting.”

Shane was reeling from the turn the conversation had taken. “What the fuck? What the hell are you talking about?” Shane couldn’t remember a single incident where he’d wanted to start making out with his friend in the middle of the office. “And, what, are you fucking following me now?”

Dylan ignored Shane’s last question. “Don’t give me that shit, you’re all like that, shoving it in everyone’s faces.”

Shane felt his stomach turning. He had a strong idea of where this was headed and he really didn’t like it. “And what exactly are you referring to when you say ‘all of us’?’”

“All of you fucking fairies,” Dylan said, spitting the word out hatefully.

Shane felt all of his fear vanish in that instant, rage completely filling the now vacant space in his body. He could feel his hands shaking as he stared at the asshole in front of him.

“Shut. Your fucking. Mouth,” Shane ground out.

“Oh,” Dylan exclaimed in fake surprise. “Did you not like that? I’m sorry,” he simpered. “I know the truth can hurt sometimes.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Shane demanded, glaring at the other man.

“I already told you what my problem is,” Dylan spat out. “It’s you; it’s people like you getting to climb all the fucking ladders you want just because you think you’re special and you make a big deal about being oppressed. ‘Diversity?’” he scoffed out. “What a fucking joke.”

“Are you serious?” Shane questioned incredulously. “You honestly think that they aren’t oppressed? That they’re just faking being gay to get a goddamn promotion?”

“How many queers does Buzzfeed promote?” Dylan asked rhetorically. “How many of the people that they’ve given shows to have been like you and your little friend?”

Shane hated the way he talked about Ryan. Ryan, who Shane wasn’t sure had ever even kissed a guy, let alone had a relationship with one. For that matter, neither had Shane, though not due to lack of desire, necessarily. And yet, here was this asshole, assuming they were fucking anyways. Why, because they smiled at each other and joked around?

“I can think of maybe five people in the ‘popular’ content that are actually gay,” Shane retorted. “They don’t get promoted because they’re gay, they get promoted because they have talent and something worth sharing.”

Dylan laughed rudely. “Sure,” he replied, “keep telling yourself that.”

Shane knew he wasn’t going to convince Dylan of anything, but that did nothing to quell the outrage he felt; not just for himself, but for all of his friends and all the people in general that had to deal with bullshit like this on a daily basis.

“Even if, somehow, that was why we got the show,” Shane said, full of disbelief, “then I guess we sure duped quite a few fucking people. Ryan and I aren’t dating, never have. I know this might be hard for you to understand since you’ve obviously never experienced it,” Shane said, voice dripping with false sympathy, “but there’s this thing called friendship. And, surprise! It can exist between two guys! And- an even bigger surprise,” Shane continued, voice sounding absurdly shocked, “two guys can be comfortable around each other without being gay! Just because I’ve met his brother and hugged him, doesn’t mean I’m sucking his dick, asshole.”

Dylan’s face, which had been smug for most of the conversation, changed into something ugly at Shane’s words. Almost before Shane could blink, Dylan shot up from his chair and seized a handful of Shane’s hair in his hand. Shane felt the sharp tug on his scalp as Dylan shoved him forward. Blinding pain sparked along Shane’s cheekbone as his face connected with the table. He felt his body being thrown to the floor, distantly hearing his chair clattering to the side as it hit the ground. Shane almost couldn’t breathe because of the pains that were shooting through his head.

A whitehot pain raced through his body as something hard connected with his hip, shoving him onto his back. He felt disoriented at the abrupt change in altitude as Dylan fisted his hands in Shane’s shirt and yanked him up close to his face.

“Bet you fucking liked that,” he spat out cruelly. “Do you have Ryan pull your hair like that too, you fucking fa- ”

The words cut off abruptly as Shane fell to the ground again. His hands came up to cover his head, eyes squeezing shut against the pain.

He heard shouts that he couldn’t focus on above him, but didn’t feel the press of a boot into his side again like he was expecting. After another moment, he took a chance and opened his eyes, moving his hands a little to look up in the direction of the harsh voices.

He was sure he’d hit his head harder than he originally thought as he took in the sight of Ryan gripping Dylan’s clothes and throwing him down on the table. Shane knew his friend was strong, knew he worked out a lot and had the muscles to show for it, but he’d never actually seen his friend put that strength to action like this. He tossed Dylan down like he was a bag of ice that Ryan was trying to break into pieces.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” Ryan asked, nearly screaming the words. Shane had never heard his friend’s voice like this before. He sounded absolutely livid.

Dylan didn’t answer as Shane used the table to drag himself up. He saw the man’s eyes widen in shock, mouth gaping uselessly.

“You wanna finish that last sentence?” Ryan demanded softly, roughly pressing him further into the table. Shane could feel the danger behind the statement as he stared at his best friend in shock.

Dylan, it seemed, could also sense that he’d fucked up. “No, I- I-” he stuttered, words not quite fully forming as they spilled out of his lips in a rush.

Ryan leaned his face in until they were almost nose to nose, his eyes narrowed in anger. “You want me to pull your hair? Huh?” he asked, voice so quiet that Shane could barely make out the words. “You want me to slam you on the table and throw you down to the ground? Maybe kick the shit out of you, like you were about to do to my friend? You seem like you’re pretty into that, maybe you’d like to see what it’s like on the other end.” His voice was nearly vibrating with rage.

Before Dylan could reply, someone called out, “Ryan! Ryan, stop!”

TJ.

He came running up, putting a hand on Ryan’s shoulder as he gasped in his breath.

“Forgot my jacket,” he mumbled in between breaths. “Ryan… you need to let him go, he’s not worth it.”

Ryan didn’t move, face still less than an inch away from Dylan’s. Dylan’s eyes were focused only on the man directly in front of him. He looked uncomfortable having another man’s face being forced so close to his, but more than that…

He looked utterly terrified.

“Why?” Ryan asked, voice terrifyingly flat and lifeless.

TJ’s hand tightened its grip. “Because Shane needs you,” he said quietly.

That got a startle out of Ryan. He jerked up, dropping Dylan from his grip like he’d been burned. His head swung around, eyes darting around almost frantically. Finally, he tilted his head down slightly, gaze falling on Shane, still clutching the table with one hand while the other pressed against his cheek.

Shane saw Ryan’s wide eyes immediately soften as they locked on his battered form. Ryan moved forward slightly and squatted down to be level with Shane, his hand slowly reaching out to touch the other’s arm. Shane felt himself flinch almost too softly to be seen, but he knew Ryan had noticed when he saw his friend’s hardened once more. Ryan’s head twitched in Dylan’s direction before he closed his eyes briefly and took in a deep breath. When he reopened them, the anger was no longer present.

“I won’t hurt you, Shane. I promise,” he said gently, slowly reaching his hand out again but not quite making contact.

Shane let go of the table, leaning into Ryan’s grip.

“I know.”

Chapter Text

TJ stayed at the bar, telling Ryan to make sure Shane got home okay. Shane could tell that he was pissed, but he hid it well, staying calm as he called the police. When the owner of the bar started walking toward them, TJ winked and moved to meet him.

Ryan led Shane out of the bar toward the parking lot toward Shane’s car. He had driven himself, knowing that he didn’t plan on getting drunk tonight. Ryan walked beside him the whole time, an arm securely around Shane’s waist to steady him when he stumbled slightly. He helped Shane get his mildly bruised body into the passenger’s seat before climbing into the driver’s side himself. Ryan then drove them both to Shane’s apartment, letting the radio softly fill the silence between them.

At first, Shane felt calm. He knew Ryan would never hurt him and would make sure that nothing else happened tonight. As they kept driving, however, little thoughts started to make an unwanted appearance.

God, you’re such an inconvenience. TJ was headed home and you made him have to stay and deal with your mess. Now Ryan’s having to haul your ass back home, too. Fuck, he probably wants to be at home right now, not stuck dealing with your bullshit.

Ryan parked and helped Shane out of the car, grip briefly tightening around Shane every time the taller man winced before he’d force his hand to relax once more.

Shane unlocked the door, opening it up so that the two could shuffle in. They moved into the living room, Ryan helping Shane sit down carefully on the right side of the couch, closest to the door.

“I’ll go grab some ice,” Ryan said quietly, moving toward the kitchen.

Shane heard him shuffling around behind him. He laid his head back against the couch, letting his eyes slip closed. He heard a small noise to his left and turned his head to look. Obi’s eyes stared back as his mouth opened in a tiny mewl. Shane’s lips twitched up as he reached out a hand to pet the cat’s head.

Ryan walked around the couch, a glass of water in one hand and a towel covered ice pack in the other. He set the pack down on the coffee table, crouching down in front of Shane.

“Here,” he said, handing Shane the glass of water and dropping two pills into Shane’s other hand. Shane swallowed the offered pills and carefully drank more of the water. Once Shane set the cup down on the table, Ryan grabbed the ice pack.

“Do you mind?” he asked, gesturing toward Shane’s face.

Shane’s throat felt like it was stuck when he tried to swallow. “Knock yourself out,” he replied.

Ryan snorted, his head dipping briefly toward the ground as his shoulders shook. “For fucks sake, man.”

Shane’s face felt a little hotter at the unintentional pun. He figured he’d be blushing a bit if his face hadn’t already been so flushed to begin with.

Ryan carefully pressed the pack onto Shane’s check, applying a little pressure. “That should help with the swelling,” Ryan murmured. Shane’s hand came up to rest beside Ryan’s against the towel. Their eyes met and neither moved. After a moment, Ryan’s hand slipped down, allowing Shane to more fully apply pressure. Ryan stood up, moving to Shane’s left to take a seat on the couch next to him.

“Do you need anything?” Ryan asked, absently petting Obi as the cat wandered over.

“Nah,” Shane replied, “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“‘Course.” Shane shot him a weak smile, somewhat dampened by the towel covering part his mouth.

Obi settled down in Ryan’s lap, purring contentedly at the attention he was receiving.

They were silent for a bit, Shane holding the pack to his face and Ryan stroking Obi’s fur. The only sound that passed between them was Obi’s purrs.

Eventually, Obi jumped down and wandered off, leaving silence in his wake.

Shane carefully lowered the ice pack as TJ’s words drifted through him mind.

He cares about you too, man… Talk to him…

Shane turned to face Ryan, taking in a deep breath to brace himself. “Ry-”

“Shane, I-”

They both stopped, staring at each other. Shane opened his mouth, closing it again quickly. He opened it once more, determined to get the words out, but Ryan let out a quiet laugh, cutting him off with a smile curving his lips upward.

“What’s so funny?” Shane asked instead, glad that his injury was hiding his rapidly heating face again.

“This,” Ryan said softly. His smile took a melancholy turn as he met Shane’s eyes again. “Us. The fact that we’ve literally slept by each other countless times, but I couldn’t even work up the courage to talk to you once in the past couple of days.”

Shane winced slightly. “I’m sorry, it was my fault-” he tried.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Ryan interrupted. “Correct me if I’m wrong, please, but… I feel like the real reason starts with D-for-douche and rhymes with villain.”

Shane couldn’t hold back his snort at the words, hissing as the movement aggravated his cheek.

Ryan’s hand flew up to his mouth, eyes wide. “Sorry,” he said, holding back a laugh.

“You wound me, Ryan,” Shane said, lips turning up at the easy banter.

Ryan’s hand dropped, a pained look entering his eyes. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Shane sighed. Great. Now he’d made Ryan feel guilty. Fuck, could he do anything right? “It wasn’t your fault Ryan. Besides, you were using the bathroom, it’s not like I would have rather you pissed yourself.”

Ryan’s lower lip disappeared slightly as he worried it between his teeth. “I… I wasn’t actually using the bathroom,” he admitted.

Shane felt his heart beat a little harder. Maybe Ryan really had just wanted to get away from him.

“Oh,” Shane replied hesitantly.

Ryan’s eyes immediately widen. “Oh! No, I didn’t- It wasn’t-” he tried to say. “It wasn’t like that.”

Shane’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Like… what, Ryan? I’m gonna need a little more detail than that,” he said apologetically.

“I just meant…” He sighed. “I… I went to the bathroom because I was going to ask if you’d talk to me after TJ left. I…” he trailed off for a moment, looking upset. “I was trying to psych myself up so that I’d actually do it instead of chickening out again. You’ve… been distant lately. I didn’t know what to do; you’d barely look at me, let alone talk to me, I just… I wanted to figure out what had happened so that I could fix it if I’d done something to upset you.”

“Ryan, no, it- It wasn’t you, I swear,” Shane protested. His most likely bruised hip disagreed with the movement, but Shane ignored the sting and shifted himself closer.

“Then what’s going on?” Ryan pleaded. “I don’t know what happened, man, I just… I don’t want to feel like I’ve lost you.”

Shane could feel his heart constricting at the breathless worry in Ryan’s voice. “You didn’t lose me,” he whispered. He let out a sigh, trying to figure out where to start.

“Well,” he began, uncertain. “You know Dylan, I take it?”

Ryan shook his head, laughing without much humor. “Yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Well, uh… I bumped into him on Monday, when I went to grab our water bottles, you know? And I mean, like, I literally bumped into him. And he was so upset about it, but I just kind of brushed it off? ‘Cause, you know, people have bad days sometimes, maybe his car died on his way to work or something. But then I saw him again on Tuesday. He… He pulled me into a conference room and…” Shane trailed off for a moment.

Fuck, he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to tell Ryan what Dylan had said to him, what he’d kept saying to him. And Shane suspected that most of it had just been homophobic-fueled bullshit, but… nothing he’d told Shane had been particularly wrong.

But Shane’s other option was not telling Ryan, leaving him to wonder why Shane had suddenly refused to meet his eyes. And Shane couldn’t do that to him.

“Shane?” Ryan asked, sounding terrified. “What did he do? He didn’t-” his voice cut out, shaking.

Shane realised in that moment what his pause, what the past week must have looked like from his friend’s perspective. Dylan pulled him into a room. Shane wouldn’t look at anyone in the eye for days. He didn’t eat, he isolated himself; and tonight, with Dylan shouting slurs at him and nearly beating him into the ground as he mocked Shane’s habits in bed.

A bolt of white hot terror and guilt shot through Shane’s gut. “No! God, Ryan, no. No, that’s not- he didn’t- The worst he’s done to me is shove me around, I swear, that’s it.”

Ryan’s eyes squeezed closed as he seemed to crumple in on himself. Shane heard him repeatedly murmur something that sounded an awful lot like thank God.

Shane reached out, laying a hand on his friend’s back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Shane cut himself off, biting his bottom lip.

Ryan straightened back up, quickly wiping his eyes, and Shane’s hand fell away to lay between them. As Ryan reached down to grab his hand, Shane muttered, “No wonder you were ready to throw down with him, Jesus.”

Ryan let out a wet laugh, squeezing Shane’s hand, but he didn’t say anything.

“Well, uh. Good news is that nothing I have to say will be as horrifying as that at least,” Shane said, swallowing harshly.

“I’m glad,” Ryan replied, sounded incredibly subdued.

“No,” Shane continued. “He just, uh… he said some shit about how… How I’m an inconvenience to everyone around me, how I don’t contribute anything and how you… how you wished you could’ve had a different co-host,” he rushed out. “He pushed me into a table when I tried to leave, but that didn’t really hurt after a little while. And then Wednesday, it was more of the same shit, saying I used you to get Ruining History off the ground, which I didn’t!” he said, nearly yelling out the last part. “I swear to God, Ryan, that’s not why I asked you to be on the show, I would never do that.”

“I know, I believe you, Big Guy, it’s okay,” Ryan said, trying to soothe the other man. His free hand had come up to rest on Shane’s thigh, down near his knee.

After a moment, Shane went on. “And then… that’s about it,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t see him again until tonight, and I think we both know what happened there.”

Shane lifted his gaze from where it had focused on the cup on the table to see Ryan staring intently at him. “Shane,” he said, so so quietly. “You know that’s all bullshit, right?”

Shane dropped his eyes again. “I don’t know, man. Homophobia aside, he brought up some good points.”

“Like what?” Ryan asked incredulously.

“Like me being fucking annoying,” Shane responded. “You’re always telling me to shut up, and I know I don’t pull my weight when it comes to Unsolved; the only thing I do is show up and make shitty puns, and I know you were running low on options when Brent quit, so then you were stuck with me after the show got going.” His words were coming out faster and faster now, trying to get them all out. “And he’s not wrong, I did know that I’d get more views if I had you go on the show with me, and I didn’t mean to use you Ryan, but I think I did, and I’m so sorry-”

“Shane!” Ryan cried, causing Shane to break off with a flinch. “Shane,” he continued, softer now. “Please just… Just stop for a second, okay?” His hands held onto Shane with a tight grip, though not tight enough that Shane couldn’t pull away if he wanted to.

He really, really didn’t want to.

Ryan sat with him in silence for a long moment, the two of them just breathing. Soon enough, Shane’s breath turned from frantic gulps to match pace with Ryan’s significantly calmer breathing.

“Shane, that’s not- He’s wrong,” Ryan insisted, squeezing Shane’s hand again. “You know that’s all bullshit. I don’t hate you, how could I? You’re my best friend, dude. And I- Sure I tell you to shut up, but I- I like your shitty puns. You don’t annoy me, not really. I thought… I thought you knew that,” he said, regret clear in his voice. “You’re one of the best parts of my life. You make work fun, there’s no one I’d rather have by my side. And Shane, I fucking know you didn’t use me for Ruining History, okay? I mean, obviously you were going to get more views with both of us there, that’s just how things work, but never for a second did I regret doing it with you, and I never thought that you were just using me.”

“And what the fuck do you mean, you don’t pull your weight? Shane, you do so much of the editing. You think I’d trust just anyone with that?” he asked, a wry grin on his face. “Unsolved is my baby, I wouldn’t let you touch it if I didn’t trust you to do it well. And it’s not like you can really help with the research, that defeats the whole purpose of the show, and we’ve got a whole team to do all the heavy lifting on that part anyways. I’ve never once thought that you weren’t doing your fair share of the work. Just because we work on different things, doesn’t mean that we’re not both putting in an equal effort.”

“Look,” Ryan said, moving a little closer. “You, Shane Madej, are an incredibly intelligent, dedicated, brilliant human being. You’re funny, you bring me comfort when it really matters, you make my day better just by fucking being there, and the things you put effort into turn out amazing, every time. Even the Hotdoga,” he said, smiling again. “But I hope you know I’m literally never going to admit to that last one on camera.”

Shane let out a small laugh, his eyes a little more watery than he wanted to admit. Ryan’s smile brightened at Shane’s laugh, though, so Shane counted it as a win.

“Ryan, I…” Shane sighed, trying not to let his guilt come back up. He didn’t want to force Ryan into giving another eulogy for him. “I’m sorry I doubted you so much. He just… He said all the things I think I was already thinking, somewhere in the back of my head where my incredibly helpful self-doubt was just waiting to make a reappearance. He’s a complete and utter asshole, but… fuck if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. And I’m so sorry I made you worry, that was the opposite of what I wanted. I thought… I thought maybe you’d be happier if I didn’t throw myself into your life as much, if I let you have some space.”

“Shane, if I wanted space, I’d let you know,” Ryan said in reply.

“I know. I know you would, I just- When you said no on Tuesday and canceled on Wednesday, I let it get to me more than I should’ve, and then it all just spiraled from there and I didn’t know what to do.”

“You know,” Ryan said, after a beat of silence, “I was kind of joking earlier to lighten the mood, but we really are a couple of idiots. Here I was, refusing to ask you what was wrong because I was scared you secretly hated me when the whole goddamn time you were thinking the same thing.”

“Two halves of a whole idiot,” Shane murmured. Ryan let out a laugh at that, making Shane’s heart lift in his chest.

Ryan’s phone lit up and vibrated against the table, softly cutting through their laughter and drawing their attention over to it. Ryan reached out and picked it up, opening it and angling it so that Shane could see too.

It was a text from TJ.

I’ll go over all the details and stuff tomorrow, but just know it’s all taken care of, that motherfucker won’t be bothering Shane again any time in the near future. Hope he’s doing alright. If he’s still up and about, tell him I hope he’ll be feeling better soon and if he’s up for it, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Sleep well

“Sweet of him,” Shane said quietly.

“You know Teej,” Ryan responded, closing his phone without responding. “I’ll text him back when I wake up, I don’t think he was really expecting an answer tonight anyways.” Ryan opened his phone again, scoffing at something. “Fuck, man, it’s almost 4,” he groaned out.

Shane hummed in response. “Good thing we don’t have work in the morning then.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Not the latest we’ve ever stayed up, though,” he commented casually.

Ryan huffed out a small laugh in response. “Fair enough. You wanna head to bed though? It’s been quite the fucking day.”

Shane snorted, feeling a slight twinge in his cold-numbed cheek. “No kidding,” he repeated. The corners of Ryan’s eyes crinkled as he shook his head lightly.

As they both stood up, Ryan already headed toward the bathroom, Shane took a second to wonder about sleeping arrangements. “It’s late,” he stated awkwardly. “Did you… did you want to just stay here?”

Ryan shot a smile at Shane over his shoulder. “No place I’d rather be.”

They ended up sharing Shane’s bed. Shane had offered to take the couch, which Ryan immediately shot down because “Shane you literally had your head slammed into a fucking table an hour ago, no” and “it’s your fucking bed, I’m not going to kick you out of it!” Ryan had then offered to take the couch instead, but Shane told him that he had already left Ryan on the couch once this week and his bed was definitely big enough for both of them to fit. They’d taken out their contacts and changed into lighter clothes, both getting under the covers as a light breeze blew through Shane’s open window.

So there Ryan lay, Shane sleeping peacefully next to him. He’d fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Ryan wished he could do the same, but his mind had other plans.

Ryan kept turning over everything Shane had admitted to him. His best friend, the man he loved more than anything, had honestly believed that Ryan hated him.

And wasn’t that the fucking cherry on top of this whole shit sundae?

Yes, Dylan had played a huge part in twisting his friend’s mind, but Shane had taken a close look at their relationship and decided, yes, he actually hates me.

Ryan couldn’t stop the way his heart ached at the realisation.

He thought about the way that Shane had seemed almost hollow on Wednesday when he’d had to cancel on him to check up on Jake. His brother had cried in his arms for nearly an hour before they talked through everything that was going on, and he wouldn’t have missed that for anything, but Ryan had still wished that he could’ve done it without unintentionally ditching Shane.

The next day, when Shane would barely talk to him, Ryan was sure that Shane was a little more upset than he’d let on. Ryan had been in a rush the day before, but he’d still taken note of how empty Shane’s voice had been. He’d decided to make it up to the other man after work, to spend the afternoon with him eating and watching the old Star Trek show with him like Shane had been pestering him about for weeks, but the taller man had brushed him off. Ryan was going to push it, not letting his friend wallow in self-pity all day, but then he’d noticed the water bottle in Shane’s bag; the water bottle he’d specifically told Ryan that he’d left at home that morning.

His heart had curled up a little when he realised that Shane had lied to him; that maybe he really didn’t want to be around Ryan. He hadn’t slept well that night, worrying over how badly he’d fucked up with his co-host. When Shane still didn’t talk to him at work earlier in the day (yesterday, whatever), Ryan had felt an encroaching panic. He couldn’t do this, he didn’t want to move forward like this, with his best friend ignoring his existence.

When he’d tentatively offered Shane a smile after Devon’s departure, he had been preparing himself for the crushing weight of Shane’s rejection. But he had already been peeking through his fingers at Ryan. He’d dropped his hands, the barrier between them, and he’d smiled back. Instead of fear and sadness, Ryan had felt his entire being lighten with hope. Maybe… Maybe they’d be okay.

But then the bar had happened. Dylan had happened. Ryan had come back from his impromptu pep talk in the bathroom mirror to see Shane getting thrown to the floor, those disgusting words being hurled at him. And he’d lost it. It didn’t matter if Shane was upset with him, he’d walk to the gates of hell, shout down every fucking demon he saw, if it meant he could protect Shane.

And then they’d gotten to Shane’s apartment, where he told Ryan that he was convinced the other man hated him; that he was sure Ryan found him annoying and useless and manipulative. Ryan had been horrified to hear what had been running through his friend’s head, in complete disbelief that Shane could believe that of him.

But as he lay there in the dark, stomach turning over sickeningly, he realised that maybe Shane had a point.

Ryan had lost count of the amount of times he’d told Shane to shut up after a particularly punny joke. He remembered all the jokes he’d made about Shane throughout their friendship; about his body, his legs, his head... things that Shane had no control over. He thought about all the insults he’d lobbed at the other during filming.

When all of it was pointed out at once, Ryan could see why Dylan’s words might have had the effect they did.

And Ryan was entirely to blame for it.

Ryan had no idea what he’d done to deserve someone like Shane in his life; a companion that understood him, yet wasn’t afraid to have differing opinions and be vocal about it. Someone that was funny, kind, and comforting in the weirdest way possible. He could force a laugh out of Ryan even when he was terrified or bored out of his mind. And this whole time, he’d been taking that for granted.

He made jokes at Shane’s expense often, and yet he couldn’t remember the last time he had genuinely shown his appreciation for the man. He’d always assumed that Shane knew how much he really cared. But he never truly said it outright.

Ryan groaned quietly, conscious of the sleeping body next to him as his eyes squeezed shut. He opened them again, turning onto his side and letting his eyes trail down Shane’s face in the darkness.

He felt so fucking guilty. He’d unintentionally pushed his best friend away when he’d needed Ryan the most. He’d been struggling, getting beat down every day by the words of others and his own mind, and Ryan had done nothing to stop it. Worse, he’d played an active role in reinforcing it.

He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes, but refused to let them fall. He tightly closed his eyes again, feeling a single drop fall onto the pillow beneath him. He reached up and angrily wiped the remaining tears away, feeling like he had no right to them. He’d fucked up, Shane had paid for it, and now he was sitting here feeling sorry for himself? Hell no. He’d put his own shit to the side and focus on his friend, like he should’ve done earlier in the week.

Ryan opened his eyes once he was sure they wouldn’t spill over with tears and found Shane’s features once more. He let his eyes run over the other’s face again and again. His fluffy hair shoved against the pillow underneath him. His eyes closed softly as he rested peacefully. The slope of his nose. His lips lightly pressed together. The hint of stubble darkening his jaw that Ryan knew would be scratchy if he reached out to run his hand against it.

His eyes traced Shane’s features over and over, soothing himself with the fact that he was right there, that Ryan was going to fix this and keep Shane next to him come morning.

Ryan couldn’t have said when his eyes finally drifted closed, still facing toward the man lying next to him.

Chapter Text

Ryan came to awareness slowly at first. He limbs were heavy with lethargy as he peacefully dwelt in that space between falling back asleep and opening your eyes. He stayed still, not wanting to get up and face the world yet, hoping he could fall back into the easy embrace of unconsciousness.

That plan, however, was shattered into pieces when something shifted beside him. In a mild panic, Ryan tensed, forcibly blinking his eyes open. The events of last night (earlier this morning, fucking whenever ) came rushing back in and for a moment, he was afraid of what he would find.

But then the form pressed up against him shifted again and Ryan’s eyes finally cleared enough to actually see what was going on. He also realised at the same time that it wasn’t just lethargy making his body feel heavy and warm,

Shane was curled securely in his arms. His face was tucked under Ryan’s own, pressed into Ryan’s clavicle, while Ryan’s chin rested lightly against the top of Shane’s head. As more awareness flooded through his body, Ryan realised he could feel one of Shane’s arms encircling the top of his waist, the other resting safely between their chests. Ryan’s left arm, meanwhile, was lying next to Shane’s between them, hand near Shane’s face. His other had fallen across Shane’s middle, pulling the other man further into him. Their legs lay pressed against each other under the blankets, Ryan’s feet tangled somewhere between Shane’s ridiculously long legs.

As he sat there, relaxed once more as he realised that there wasn’t any immediate danger, Ryan noticed that he could feel Shane’s warm exhales against his skin where his shirt didn’t cover.

Ryan stared down reverently at the body he held, taking in the feeling of safety that having Shane in his arms brought on. His thoughts from last night popped up again as the hand slung around Shane’s back began massaging lightly at the thin fabric of the shirt and the body beneath it.

He could have lost this so easily. He almost did. He had been so afraid that he’d messed up their relationship that he’d left Shane vulnerable to all the bullshit that was being spewed his way.

Ryan was thankfully distracted from these thoughts, however, when Shane shifted again in his arms. Shane looked like he was on the verge of consciousness and Ryan couldn’t hold back a smile at how desperately the other seemed to be clinging to sleep.

Kinda like how his hand was now clinging to Ryan’s tank top between them.

Shane’s breathing deepened slightly before he inhaled heavily, tensing in Ryan’s arms. He could feel the prickly scratch of Shane’s stubble and the soft slide of his nose against his collar and neck as Shane’s jaw briefly tucked in closer to his own chest. His body then went limp for a moment on the exhale before he shuffled his head upward, the top of his head gently knocking into Ryan’s jaw. Shane pulled back a little at the unexpected obstacle, blinking blearily at Ryan as they lay, nearly nose to nose.

Ryan stared at his friend’s face as his eyes slowly cleared. He could see where the bruise had darkened overnight and felt a rush of guilt. The entirety of Shane’s left cheekbone was a mess of dark color. Ryan felt a tug in his stomach at the sight of the injury; a sharp reminder of the fact that he hadn’t been there for Shane. It never would’ve happened if Ryan wasn’t such a fucking coward. He’d left him there alone because he couldn’t find the courage to just talk to his best friend. If he hadn’t left, Ryan doubted Dylan would’ve come over and Shane wouldn’t have had to go through all of that bullshit...

Shane’s left hand drifted from Ryan’s back to his hip, drawing Ryan out of his thoughts once more. Its weight lay there comfortingly, keeping Ryan’s focus on the present; on the man in front of him rather than the one in his memories; the one curled up on the ground in fear.

Shane’s right hand loosened its grip on Ryan’s shirt, but didn’t fully let go.

“Mornin’,” Shane mumbled, voice rough and gravely from disuse.

“Morning,” Ryan replied, lips tilted up. He forced his eyes to stay locked on Shane’s rather than allowing them to drift down to his cheek.

They lay there for a few more minutes, giving their bodies time to adjust to consciousness. Neither said anything, merely allowing themselves to stay wrapped up in the other’s embrace for a little while longer. Ryan kept his breathing steady, trying not to give in to the dull ache in his stomach every time he focused in on the darkened skin in the corner of his vision.

Eventually, their silence was broken by a sudden pressure low on the bed. Shane’s head popped up while Ryan merely tilted his head down to look. Ryan squinted and was met with the slightly blurred sight of Obi, kneading his paws into the blanket and letting out quiet mewls at them.

Shane’s head flopped back down on the pillow as he let out a quiet laugh that was almost more of an exhale. “Guess no one’s fed Obi yet.”

Ryan reluctantly drew his right hand away from Shane’s body, tilting his head to the right and reaching behind him to grope around for his phone. His hand closed around it after a moment and he turned it on, looking at the time.

“10:30,” he informed Shane, letting the screen go black and dropping his hand between them to join the two that were already there. The cool brush of the phone against his arm sent a shiver up his spine as he curled into the man next to him.

Obi began moving up the bed, coming into sharper focus with every step he took. As Ryan watched him, the cat put both paws on Shane’s prone form, elevating himself up using Shane’s hip. Shane winced a little at the pressure, causing the cat to drop back down onto the bed behind him so that Ryan’s vision was blocked. Ryan had nearly forgotten about the bruises Shane likely had from being slammed onto the ground and kicked around.

He saw Obi’s head pop up again behind Shane’s shoulder as the cat nuzzled into his jaw from behind. Ryan could feel Shane’s body shaking in a silent laugh as he cringed toward Ryan, shoulder lifting to meet his neck in order to push the cat away from the ticklish area. Shane’s hand left Ryan’s hip and reached up to pet the cat’s head instead.

“I know, I know,” he said, scratching behind Obi’s ears as the cat purred. “You’re probably starving, it’s been more than five minutes since breakfast time.” Obi let out a quiet chittering noise in response and Ryan felt his heart melt a little.

“Oh, poor baby,” Shane said between laughs, leaning into the cat gently as it nudged its head into Shane’s.

Shane laid his head on the pillow again, a shy smile on his face as he made eye contact with Ryan. “Guess we should probably make sure he doesn’t die of starvation.”

Ryan hummed in agreement, untangling his legs from Shane’s. Shane pushed himself into an upright position, bringing his legs up closer to his body as the blankets fell down. He reached over to his nightstand, grabbing his black-rimmed glasses and gently putting them on, mindful of the bruise marring his cheek. Obi took the change in position as an invitation and climbed onto Shane’s lap, placing his paws on Shane’s chest to look him more fully in the eye. Shane laughed at this, his arm coming up around the cat to support him as he allowed the cat to nuzzle into the juncture between his shoulder and neck again. He kissed the top of Obi’s head before scooping him up into his arms, eliciting a small sound of protest from the cat as he resituated himself. Shane stood from the bed and began making his way into the kitchen, carrying the cat like it was a small child with its head still resting on Shane’s shoulder.

Ryan let out a snort at the sight and got up to follow, grabbing his glasses case out of the bag that lay at the foot of the bed. He hadn’t been sure what last night would bring when he decided to talk to Shane, so he’d grabbed them just in case. Ryan slipped them on, and left Shane’s bedroom, stopping by the bathroom on his way to the kitchen. As he entered, he saw Shane crouching next to Obi’s filled plate, running his hand down Obi’s side gently. He looked up when Ryan’s footsteps drew closer, a smile lifting his lips. Ryan smiled down indulgently, revelling quietly in the fact that Shane was the one that had to look up for once.

Shane stood up, taking away Ryan’s short-lived sense of satisfaction. “Hungry?” Shane asked.

“Always,” Ryan responded, moving further into the kitchen as Shane turned toward the cabinets.

“Wanna grab some eggs out of the fridge? And the butter and cheese?”

“Sure,” Ryan replied, grabbing the items and placing them down next to the stove. Shane placed a pan on the burner, turning it on. Ryan leaned against the countertop that lay between the fridge and the stove as they waited for it to heat up, Shane grabbing a spatula out of the drawer next to him.

“So,” Shane said quietly as they both stood there. “Do you wanna talk about it now, or after we eat?”

Ryan looked up from where he had been staring at Obi to see Shane leaning back against the counter next to the wall, the stove creating a distance between them.

“Well… We probably shouldn’t risk burning your apartment down because we got distracted, so... Probably wait?” Ryan wasn’t sure how far he could push it with the jokes. He’d realised last night how many of them involved insulting Shane and, until they talked about it, Ryan didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire of Shane’s doubts.

Thankfully, Shane laughed. “Yeah, fair enough.” He pushed himself up again, grabbing the tub of butter off the counter and opening it up. When he shoved the spatula in, Ryan felt his forehead crinkle in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Shane’s eyes darted up to look at him briefly before returning to the task in front of him. “Why waste a perfectly clean knife if this is already gonna get dirty anyways?” He pulled the utensil back out, a scoop of butter on the tip of it. Shane knocked the spatula against the pan a few times until the butter fell in, a faint sizzling sound filling the kitchen as it melted. Shane stirred it around, coating the entirety of the pan, before he picked up one of the eggs Ryan had set down. Ryan moved to the other side of the kitchen, trying to stay out of the other man’s way. Then again, his kitchen was barely wide enough to fit them both side by side, so Ryan wasn’t sure how much help it really was.

As Ryan watched Shane crack all of the eggs open, the insides falling into the pan, he reached out to pull the garbage closer. Shane put the empty shells in and Ryan moved it back, returning to his spot near the sink. He grabbed the plastic plates Shane kept in the corner cabinet above the counter while Shane opened the bag of shredded cheese, sprinkling some into the still mostly liquid mixture. He added salt as well before scrabbling them a bit and flipping them over. His head then turned in Ryan’s direction.

“You wanna throw some toast in?” he asked, eyes not leaving the pan.

“Sure,” Ryan responded, turning around to grab the bread from the cabinet above his head. Ryan had asked him once why Shane didn’t just leave it on the counter, and he’d admitted that he used to, but that Obi had a habit of jumping up and chewing through the plastic, ruining the rest of the loaf.

He dropped four pieces into the toaster and lowered the lever to start heating them. Ryan then turned to Shane’s silverware drawer, freezing after he had pulled out a butterknife. He slowly turned toward his friend.

“Shane?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you use the spatula for the butter if you needed a knife for the toast anyways?”

He saw Shane stiffen, spatula hanging uselessly in the air. “That’s… a good question,” he responded. Ryan could see the moment the realisation hit him. “I didn’t think about it?” he said, voice lifting at the end of his statement like he was asking a question rather than answering Ryan’s.

Ryan held back his laugh as much as he could, but knew Shane heard some of it as a light blush crept up his neck.

“Do you forget about it often?” Ryan teased.

Shane was silent for a moment. “More often than I’m willing to admit,” he replied calmly.

Ryan couldn’t hold back his laugh anymore, letting it fill the air between them. Shane turned his head toward Ryan and smiled bashfully.

Ryan shook his head and smiled, moving back toward the toaster. Shane added more cheese into the pan before the bread popped up. Ryan reached around Shane to grab the butter and began spreading it across the surface of the toast. He heard a click from the stove as Shane turned the burner off.

“Wanna bring the plates over?” Shane asked, shifting the pan to the non-heated burner in the back.

Ryan grabbed both and brought them over, setting them down next to the stove. Shane scooped up the semi-large pieces, laying them flat on the toast. Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Should I ask?”

“You trust me, right?” Shane said, putting the remaining eggs next to the toast on the plate.

His tone was joking, but Ryan heard the nerves underneath.

“Of course.”

Shane set the pan back down, grabbing his plate. He pulled two sodas out of the fridge as they passed, handing one to Ryan, before they walked into the living room. They both sat on the couch, placing their plates on the coffee table. Shane turned the tv on, switching it to Youtube where he pulled up a cooking video from a channel they both watched. They watched through two videos as they ate, both groaning out in approval when the food was plated by the chef.

As the last video finished up, both having cleaned their plates, Shane picked up the remote and turned the tv off. Ryan grabbed his drink, giving his fidgeting hands something to hold onto.

Ryan turned to face his friend. Before Shane could say something, Ryan jumped in. “Shane, I… I thought about it last night and I am so sorry.” He looked up, feeling like he had to meet Shane’s eyes as he said this. He found Shane looking at him with a gentle confusion.

“I’ve been a real shit friend these past couple days. I did nothing to reassure you that I didn’t hate you, and I’m not gonna make that mistake again.”

Ryan took in a deep breath before continuing. “You’re the most important person in my life, Shane. You make me so happy. I love your terrible puns and the way you can always make me laugh. I love working with you and hanging out with you and just knowing that you’re there by my side, and I’m so sorry I don’t tell you that enough, I’m so sorry that you could doubt for even a second how much you mean to me, and I want to make sure that never happens again.” Ryan had to gasp in a breath as he finished. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes, but he refused to drop his gaze, even as Shane turned a little fuzzy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like you could talk to me about what was going on. I wish I was there for you; that I was there last night, that I could have stopped him from hurting you-” Here, Ryan’s voice cut out and he lowered his head. Tears fell onto his glasses, dripping down and building up where his cheeks met the frame.

Shane was silent for a moment. “Yeah,” he said softly. Ryan felt his heart shatter in that split-second before Shane continued. “I’m not gonna lie, he really scrambled my egg, you know?”

Ryan lifted his head. Shane had a hesitant grin on his face, waiting for a reaction.

“You’re the absolute worst,” Ryan let out, his laughter and sobs mingling together as he pushed his glasses up, hands covering his eyes as the tears finally fell down his face.

Shane’s own laughter mingled with Ryan’s. He felt Shane lean forward, pulling Ryan into his arms in a hug. Ryan couldn’t remember the last time they’d embraced. He wasn’t sure why they didn’t do it more often. As he brought his arms up around Shane’s shoulders, he thought about how good it felt to just hold the person he cared about most and to be held by him in return.

“I realised something this morning,” Shane said, voice slightly muffled due to the fact that his head was resting on Ryan’s shoulder, partially obstructing his mouth. “Everything Dylan said, all the examples he gave for you hating me? Yeah, they were accurate. But he took them out of context. Every time you make fun of me, I’m making fun of you right back, and we’re both laughing. Every time you say you hate me, you’re practically giggling as you say it. And if you really hated me? If you didn’t want me around? There’s no way in hell that you would’ve stayed last night. And when I woke up to see you laying there, staring at me creepily?” he teased, prompting a watery laugh from Ryan’s. “I knew that you really did care. I’m sorry that I let it get to me. I know you care, Ryan, I swear I do.”

Ryan buried his face in Shane’s neck. “Love you Big Guy,” he murmured. Shane didn’t answer, but his grip tightened around Ryan and he knew that his friend had heard him.

Eventually, Ryan pulled back, a bit, sniffling. He laughed quietly as he fully let go of Shane and wiping the tears off his face. “God, I can barely see out of these things,” he complained, pulling his glasses off. He used his shirt to wipe the moisture off of the lenses, holding them up to the light afterward to check for smears. Finding none, he put them back on to see Shane smiling at him. He grinned back, eyes drifting away as he let out a mildly embarrassed laugh at his breakdown.  

He caught sight of something on the ground and focused on it, rather than looking back at Shane just yet. His brows furrowed a bit as he leaned forward, picking it up from where it lay under the table.

He held up Shane’s water bottle, taking in the slightly beat up state it was in. He ran his thumb over the place where the heart had been scratched off.

“What happened to this?” he asked, finally looking at Shane again in confusion.

Shane’s face reddened slightly, blending a bit with his bruise. “Uh…” He trailed off, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Would you believe me if I said Obi?”

Ryan’s loud laugh let Shane know that, no, Ryan would not believe him.

Shane was a little nervous as he walked into work on Monday, two cups of expensive coffee from the cafe down the street held securely in his hands. He ducked his head down slightly as he walked, self-conscious of the way people would stare at the dark bruise on his cheek as he passed them. Thankfully, though, no one stopped him to ask about it.

He let out a relieved sigh as his desk came into sight, Ryan sitting at his own already. Ryan looked up as Shane approached, a sunny grin on his face. He silently held up a small sheet of laminated paper. Shane felt confusion shoot through him until he got a little closer, stopping right next to where Ryan was sitting.

He was holding up a sheet of heart stickers.

“I’ll take the water bottles today,” Ryan offered. Shane shook his head in amusement as he set the coffee down on Ryan’s desk, pulling his water bottle out from the pocket of his bag. Ryan took it when Shane held it out, setting it down in front of him.

“So, which one do you want?” he asked, holding the stickers out toward Shane.

Shane pretended to think about it for a moment before pointing to the rainbow colored one in the middle.

Ryan snorted at Shane’s antics, pulling the sticker off the sheet. He carefully positioned it over the partially destroyed black heart before smoothing it down with his thumb.

“You’re a fucking nerd, you know that?” Ryan said, grabbing both of their bottles and standing up from his desk.

“I know, baby,” Shane replied with a shit-eating grin. He grabbed his cup of coffee off of Ryan’s desk and moved to sit down at his own. Ryan walked over with him, but then slowed down, turning to face Shane as he continued, now walking backwards.

“What are you gonna tell our viewers when we film the post mortem?” he asked curiously.

Shane took a sip of his drink, humming thoughtfully. “Eh, I’ll just tell them I got into an epic bar fight that you ended up having to rescue me from.”

Shane hid his smile in the coffee cup as Ryan’s laugh rang out in the room.