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Ryan had bolted the second time the torchlight flickered off seemingly on command. Shane didn’t even have time to react before all five feet nine-and-three quarters of his jumpy co-host murmured a panicky “fuck this” before literally running out the front door, slamming it in his wake.
An unnatural silence descended upon the room and it was the first time Shane actually felt uneasy in the damn house that night – and this after he had laid on a poorly-drawn pentagram hollering for whatever unknown supernatural forces to shuck his bones from his body.
“Does he usually do that?” the supposed “paranormal investigator” Ryan had invited for their foray into the Sallie House spoke up, looking surprisingly blasé for someone who apparently just witnessed a demonic entity switch a torchlight on and off for five minutes.
Shane frowned. “Do what?”
“Freak out like that.” The guys shrugged, “usually these ghost hunters aren’t so...jumpy.”
A spark of irritation bloomed in Shane’s gut as he fought the irrational urge to defend Ryan’s ghost hunter credentials. “I’ll go check on him.” He states shortly, sharing a look with T.J who was still behind the camera. The latter merely made a small shrug as if to say hey he’s your best friend, it’s on you now.
He reaches up to his shirt collar and switches his mic off, ignoring T.J’s noise of protest. Pushing the porch door open, he was immediately greeted with the humid warmth of the Kansas night. He spots Ryan almost immediately, hunched down in the middle of the garden.
Shane deliberately makes his footsteps loud as he moves towards Ryan’s hunched up form on the ground.
“Ryan?”
Nothing. The night around them was silent, almost rebuking - broken only by Ryan’s uneven shaky gasps.
“You okay buddy?” Shane tries again, carefully squatting down and wincing as he felt his knees click. He receives no response as Ryan doesn’t even appear register his presence, still curled up into a protective ball.
Shane cycles through his options and came up short. A small, selfish part of him wanted to just call the entire shoot off, give Ryan the space to work through his panic attack, and then return to their regularly scheduled programming of the both of them pretending everything is fine as the world burns down around them.
Because their not-talking-about-it schtick worked absolutely fine during the horrendous boat crisis during their earlier shoot at the Island of the Dolls. The rickety engine on their glorified raft had “stalled” half an hour into their journey back into the mainland. Which led to a tense two hours of their local guide arguing with the boatman about “recovery fees”, with Shane battling the sinking feeling that his family was going to wake up to the news of his body being dumped into a Mexican river. Meanwhile, Ryan had steadfastly looked on at the endless twists of the river with his hands firmly folded around himself in some sort of self-protective hug, only releasing his hands when they finally reached back to shore.
But they didn’t talk about it.
Before Shane can ruminate any further, a small muffled sob emanates from Ryan’s hunched form. Ah fuck it. Shane thinks as his mother hen instincts takes over and he automatically moves to tug at Ryan’s arms, pulling the both of them into a standing position.
“You’re not gonna have a chance to no-homo out of this one pal.” Shane murmured, as he stepped forward into Ryan’s space and bundled them into an awkward hug. Their body cams hit each other clumsily, as Ryan gave a small sob and buried his head into Shane’s chest.
“Shhh, you’re ok. You’re fine.” Shane babbled, his hands tracing circles on Ryan’s back. “I mean I know you hate it when I say this, but demons don’t exist - I mean I have been taunting this Sallie girl, oh I suppose it could be a guy - or actually do demons even have a gender? Did I just assume a demon’s gender? Whatever - I have been taunting this thing for the whole night and I’m still here, not a pretty hair out of place if I say so myself.”
There was a muffled sound against his chest, which sounded suspiciously like “Shut up, Shane” and Shane bit back a small grin of triumph. They had somehow started swaying in tandem, shifting back and forth between each leg, Ryan’s face still buried in his chest.
How long has it been? Ten minutes? Ten hours? Shane didn’t know and didn’t care. It was like time had stopped entirely, and it was just him and Ryan in the garden of this creaky old house in a silent neighbourhood and a small, selfish sort of him wants it to go on forever. LA and BuzzFeed and Unsolved were far far away, almost like distant memories from what was now, and present and real.
Ryan has stopped shivering, but neither of them made the move to detangle from each other. Impulsively, Shane tilted his head down and buried his face in Ryan’s hair, breathing in slowly. He distantly remembered the catalogue of shampoo smells of past lovers - Jodie’s always seemed to smell like the lush bathbombs she used, Kyle’s curls used to smell faintly of the weed he often smoked. Ryan - Ryan smelt like cheap motel soap and a comforting familiarity that Shane never knew he missed until now.
There was a polite cough from behind them, Shane didn’t have to look up to know it was T.J, probably pointing a camera at them at this very moment because all content is good content after all. Though he had a hunch whatever was filmed of this moment was going to be left at the editing room table.
With a sigh he releases Ryan, rubbing his arms in a bid to give his hands something to do.
“You okay to keep going, Ry?” Shane murmurs, making sure to keep his voice neutral and soothing. “We can always call it a night, say that the batteries mysterious died or something.”
Ryan shook his head and sucked in a shaky breath. “No - it’s fine.” He chews on his bottom lip, eyes darting back to the porch, where T.J stood, a camera lens pointed in their direction. “The Shaniacs are going to have to hold a fat L this episode, and this is the closest we are going to get to actual proof.” He smiles but there’s a sort of emptiness to it. Shane nods jerkily as the they start walking back towards the house. They had almost made it back to the porch when Ryan abruptly stops and turns around, causing Shane to bump into his back.
“Hey, big guy?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
Ryan bites his lip nervously before looking up to look straight into Shane’s eyes. He lets out a small shaky breath and nods, almost as if to psych himself up. “I don’t say this enough but, thank you.” He says. “Even if you don’t believe in half the stuff that scare me shitless – thank you for being here for me. I – I really appreciate it.”
The world feels as if it has stopped turning, and as Ryan looks at him – the both of them standing in this godforsaken overgrown backyard, Shane finally understands what it feels like to be seen. An indescribable wave of emotion fills his chest as he swallows the sudden lump that has formed in his throat.
“You’re right, I don’t believe in any of this.” Shane says, waving a vague hand at their surroundings. “And half the time, I think question whether you have actually gone insane.” He watches Ryan’s face fall imperceptibly before clasping his hands on the latter’s shoulders, “But that doesn’t matter because I believe in you, Ryan. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world”.
Ryan smiles, genuinely this time, as his eyes crinkle with his grin so wide it could light up the world.
And Shane smiles right back.