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“Another day, another ghoul hunt,” Shane muttered to himself (and Ryan) as he and his friend walked towards a cozy little house, reminiscent of the Sallie house the two boys had conquered years ago. When Ryan didn’t reply to Shane’s little quip, he turned to him. Ryan was silent, looking at the house with a worried expression on his face. “You good, little guy?” He asked, and Ryan almost flinched at Shane’s voice.
“I’m fine, it’s just… it reminds me a lot of, uh, the Sallie house.” He answered, adjusting the camera strapped to his chest nervously.
Shane placed a comforting hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Yup. It’ll be fine, though. Nothing happened at the Sallie house, and nothing will happen here, because ghosts aren’t real.”
Ryan sighed, frustrated, beside him. “Ghosts are real, first of all, you dimwit, and second of all things did happen at the Sallie house. Don’t you remember the flashlight?”
At the memory of Ryan screaming his lungs out because of a flashlight in an old house at 1am, Shane started to laugh. “Yeah, I do.”
“It was not funny, you idiot,” Ryan was saying, but he started to laugh, too, out of the absurdity of it all. The two giggled for a bit at the old memory.
Shane stepped on the porch steps first, approaching the door. The house was painted a faded shade of periwinkle, and the porch steps creaked with each step Shane took. He smelled dust. He could sense that this house was old as all hell. What was new, though? All “haunted” houses were always old, Shane supposed. Once he approached the creaky door that had a window made with old stained glass, he turned back to see that his friend hadn’t even walked up the steps yet. He was in front of the first step, staring at it as if he hated it. Shane smiled at the frankly adorable picture. “C’mon, Ry, you can do it!” He encouraged him, and Ryan took a deep breath, slowly walking up each step.
Once he got to his place beside Shane, Shane smiled. “See? We can do this! We’re ghost hunters, babey!” He exclaimed, opening the door to the creaky old house.
“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan muttered, “And don’t call me baby.”
“Okay, sweetheart.”
Ryan’s breath stuttered at the pet name. Did Shane just call him sweetheart? That should not be making Ryan’s heart rate speed up and his cheeks flush pink, and yet, here he was. He opened his mouth, ready to make a witty retort, and yet all he could stutter out was, “I, I- you- th- ...shut up.” Making his tall companion laugh. Ryan frowned. Fuck Shane and his stupid charm that made Ryan want to swoon like a highschool girl.
☆
Midnight was approaching, and the full moon shone, casting an eery, cool light onto the old house. The crew had left, and Ryan and Shane were setting up their sleeping bags for night in the furnished basement. There were paintings hung up on the walls in circular, gold frames, mirrors that look like they could shatter at any moment, and lots of dust. Ryan assumed he wouldn’t have a good time sleeping there. He brought out his phone, pressed record, and held up the camera to show himself in the old basement. “Well, guys,” He said to the camera, “This may be my final day... here on Earth.” He giggled nervously at his own joke.
“No, you’ll be fine,” Shane said, exasperated, in the background.
“You don’t know that!” Ryan retorted, still looking at the camera. “Anyways, Shane and I are settling down for the night. We have our night vision camera here to pick up any spooky things that might happen. And, uh, yeah. See you in the morning.” He stopped the recording, and put his phone back into his bag.
Shane turned the light off, casting the two boys in darkness except for Shane’s phone flashlight. “Alright, time to settle down,” he said, and he wiggled into his sleeping bag (which was almost too small for his longass body).
Ryan nodded silently, and he settled into his own sleeping bag next to Shane. He could see Shane was still on his phone, but he decided to try to fall asleep as fast as possible so that he wouldn’t be as scared. Ryan rustled a little bit to settle down, and then the room fell silent, save for the old clock ticking quietly. Ryan put his head onto his pillow, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to think of happy thoughts.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Creak!
Ryan gasped. He lifted his head from his pillow to see Shane, still staring at his phone, unbothered, because of course he was. “Shane!” He whispered.
Shane looked over at Ryan, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Ryan?” He asked.
“Did you hear that?”
Shane frowned. “Hear what?”
Just then, another creak sounded, sounding like footsteps were stepping on a weak floorboard. Ryan gasped again. “That!”
Shane wheezed softly, but his tone sounded more fond than teasing. “Ryan, nothing is in this house.” He said, his eyes turning into half moons. (Ryan loved whenever that happened. It meant he’d made Shane happy)
“Exactly! Nobody is in this house other than us! That creak sounded like footsteps!” He exclaimed. Just then, a series of more creaks sounded from the floor above them, and Ryan squeaked. Straight up squeaked. Be blushed afterwards, as squeaking was not a very manly way to deal with fear.
Next to him, he heard Shane burst out in laughter. Ryan furrowed his brows. “Fuck you, dude!” He said.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
As if on cue, a loud creeeeeeak! sounded and rattled throughout the house, and Ryan practically squealed, physically jumping.
Beside him, Shane started to laugh once again, and this made Ryan’s heart pang. In a good way, because, wow, Shane’s laugh was so beautiful, and also, what the fuck dude, I’m freaking out and all you’re doing is laughing? Tears almost formed in Ryan’s eyes from the fear-induced hysteria. “Shut the fuck up, Shane, or I’m gonna-” His empty threatening was cut off by sudden, strong arms wrapping around him, pulling him close. He let out a small gasp from the warm contact. “Shane?” Ryan asked weakly, but his friend didn’t answer him.
“Shhh,” Shane was pulling Ryan close, comforting him, whispering, “Shhh, it’s okay, honey. It’s okay, you’re okay, honey… shh…”
Ryan sniffled, wiping his eyes, and he processed the words Shane was saying. Honey? A basic pet name, sure, but something about it made his chest flutter. His heart warmed, and he couldn’t help but grin at his friend’s words. He turned around to look at the taller, and he was met with those familiar, warm, caring eyes he’d known for years now. Overwhelmed by the sudden emotion and care Shane was displaying, Ryan wrapped his arms around Shane in a sudden, big hug. He buried his face into Shane’s shoulder to hide the blush that was creeping onto his cheeks. Shane, of course, returned the gesture, and continued to soothe his co-worker. “Shhh, hey, I’m here, nothing will hurt you, Ryan, I’m right here…” And it all made Ryan feel incredibly overwhelmed and loved, which is how he’d always felt with Shane.
“Shane,” He said, words muffled because he was basically speaking into Shane’s shoulder, “What if we die here? Tonight?”
He heard Shane try to stifle a giggle, and he appreciated the effort. “If anything does try to get us, which they won’t, because ghosts aren’t real, then I’ll protect you.”
“You will?”
“Of course, little guy. I always will.”
Ryan assumed Shane meant to say it as a bit, but for some reason his tone sounded strangely fond and serious. A silence fell over the two as the reality of Ryan’s feelings hit, and they hit hard.
Oh. Oh fuck.
Oh my fucking god.
Ryan was in love with Shane. He had been in love with Shane for years and didn’t even fucking realize! Stupid heteronormative brain, he cursed himself. Now he knew why his heart was fluttering whenever Shane called him Ry, little guy, and now sweetheart and honey. Shane calling him these adoring pet names was not going to make concealing his newfound feelings any easier for Ryan, was it? Especially since Ryan, for whatever reason, liked them so much.
This was going to be interesting.
Shane and Ryan, after a very long time, eventually went back to their respective sleeping bags. Although, none of them said a word when Ryan kept inching his own sleeping bag closer and closer to Shane’s until they were basically touching. In the morning, Ryan told himself to remember to tell the editors to cut out all the nightly footage.
☆
On the drive home, the crew was in one car, and Shane and Ryan were in the other, listening to Car Seat Headrest (“they’re good, ryan!! Listen!!” “Shane, your taste in music is fucking weird.”) and laughing about dumb stuff posted on twitter. A nice silence fell over the car for a moment. Shane turned to Ryan. “Hey, Ry, wanna come over to mine? You can sleep over if you wanna.”
Ryan smiled at his friend. He still had an extra outfit and pajama pants from packing for the haunted house, and even though he wanted to conceal his newfound feelings for his best friend, he’d take any opportunity to be close to him.
Shane and Ryan entered Shane’s apartment, and Ryan sighed happily at the familiar smell of tea and cat hair. By the time they had gotten off the plane and driven back to LA, the sun was already setting, so Shane said to Ryan, “I’m gonna go take a shower. You can go get changed in my room if you want.” Ryan nodded, and went into Shane’s room to change.
He didn’t go into Shane’s room often. When they had sleepovers, one of them was usually passed out on the floor while the other was sprawled out on the couch by at least 4am. Usually Ryan spent time in the living room or in Shane’s kitchen, making instant food, getting beer, or watching movies on the couch.
He heard the noise of a shower turning on, and he decided that since Shane wouldn’t be out for a couple minutes, he sat down on the bed and took a look around Shane’s room.
There were a bunch of books strewn about, some empty tea mugs, and Ryan even saw a book about butterflies, because of course Shane owned a book about butterflies. His fascination with them was kind of endearing, Ryan thought. He noticed a journal on Shane’s bedside table, and he vaguely remembered Shane talking about wanting to get back into journaling sometime. Ryan let his mind wander, thinking about what it would be like if this is where he lived; if this bed was the bed he’d go to every night with Shane by his side. Ryan smiled at the thought of Shane holding him like he held him last night… every night. He started to change, after realizing Shane’s shower should be done soon and if he wasn’t in his pajamas by the time Shane was out then that would be kinda weird. After a minute or two, he noticed the shower noise had stopped, and he heard Shane’s low, melodic voice from outside.
“There’s just something about him that could make any man wax poetic, you know?” What? Ryan perked up. Who was Shane talking to? Then he heard a soft mrrrp and then he found out that his best friend was talking to his cat.
“You know I don’t believe in this stuff, but uh, he’s an angel, you know? He’s just so bright and happy all the time, and even if he’s clearly not happy he still tries to make everyone around him happy… not to mention he’s beautiful. And I’d do anything to keep him happy all the time, you know?” Then Ryan heard a soft groan, “Urgh, this is weird. But I think I really love him. I just wish there was a way to tell him…” And then he heard Shane call, “Ryan? You in there, man?”
Ryan blinked. Fuck. He felt a pang of jealousy in his heart to whoever Shane was talking about. He wished it was him, but what were the chances? “Uh, coming!” He called, yanking his pajama pants on and walking outside to see Obi in Shane’s lap on the couch. Lucky bastard, he thought at Obi, and went to sit down beside Shane. “What’re we gonna watch?” He asked his tall friend.
“What about Annabelle?” Shane asked with a smirk, already putting it on. Ryan groaned.
“Shane! You know that makes me jump!” He exclaimed. Annabelle always got on his nerves, especially since they had visited the actual, real-life doll.
“It’s okay, Ryan,” Shane said, “Obi will protect you. He is the son of God.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Alright, dickhead, but I choose what we watch tomorrow.” That was, implying if Ryan didn’t go right home tomorrow. He usually didn’t. When Ryan slept over at Shane’s he was usually there for a whole weekend.
Throughout the film, Ryan inched closer and closer to Shane as he got more scared, and at the jumpscared Ryan, well, jumped, not thinking before burying his face into Shane’s shoulder. To his relief, Shane didn’t say anything.
After Annabelle was over, Ryan insisted they watch Glee, and he put it on before Shane could protest. But two episodes in, Ryan had already fallen asleep on Shane’s shoulder. By then, Obi had already hopped out of Shane’s lap, so Shane picked his best friend up bridal-style, carrying him to his bed, and laying him down. Shane stared at sleeping Ryan with such a fond expression on his face. After a moment, he leaned down and kissed Ryan on the forehead. “Goodnight, angel,” He whispered to him, and got in bed beside him, hoping Ryan was okay with sleeping in his bed.
☆
Ryan awoke to the lovely smell of waffles coming from the other room. Once we woke up, he frowned. Am I in Shane’s bed? How did I get here? He thought to himself. Did Shane and I… do anything? No. They couldn’t have. If they did Ryan would’ve remembered it. Right? Ryan shook his head. They slept in the same bed all the time for shoots. This wasn’t any different.
Yawning, he got out of Shane’s bed and walked into the kitchen, where Shane was there, cooking waffles in a waffle maker. Ryan loved the smell. A plate of strawberries was already on the kitchen table. Shane was wearing an apron, singing to himself a song by harry styles, and Ryan’s heart clenched at the domesticity of it all. “Smells good,” He said, and Shane whipped around. Once he saw Ryan, a smile spread on his face, his eyes turning into half moons.
“Good mornin’, angel,” Shane said, and Ryan swore he saw Shane’s cheeks turn pink. Ryan must’ve been the guy Shane was talking about last night. God, Ryan couldn’t help himself.
Ryan walked towards Shane, a smile on his face and a flush on his cheeks. “Good morning, papi,” He whispered, getting up on his tip toes and kissing Shane on the cheek.
To his delight, his friend started to stutter. “Pa- Ryan?” He started to laugh.
Ryan laughed along with him. “I’m trying to seduce you, idiot!” He exclaimed, hanging his arms off of Shane’s shoulders. Shane wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist, and Ryan’s grin grew ever-wider. “Is it working?”
Shane rolled his eyes. “No, not one bit,” He said, and he leaned in and pressed his lips to Ryan’s. The kiss was short, sweet, and lovely, just how Ryan imagined a proper good morning kiss would be. This was everything Ryan wanted. After a while, Shane pulled away, bright pink flushed on both of their faces.
Ryan gazed at Shane through his lashes, and Shane couldn’t help but gaze back. “I didn’t know you had a daddy kink, Shane,” Ryan teased, and Shane wheezed, starting to laugh.
“That- that’s not- you’re the one who called me papi, Ryan!” He protested, not letting go of Ryan’s waist.
“You’re the one who kissed me!” Ryan quipped.
“I couldn’t help it,” Shane’s voice went soft, one of his hands coming up to cup Ryan’s cheek. “You’re too precious, angel.”
Ryan couldn’t help but grin, turning even redder. He didn’t realize how much he liked that one. Angel. “You’re an idiot.” He said. “Weren’t you talking to your cat about me? Yesterday?”
Shane’s eyes widened. “You heard that?” He said, completely serious, and Ryan laughed. “Lately, it’s been really hard to, uh…” He looked anywhere but into Ryan’s eyes, “Conceal… how I feel. God that’s so dumb,” He scolded himself.
Ryan shook his head. “No, Shane, it’s okay, I… me, too.”
“...Cool,” Said Shane.
“Cool.”
A silence fell over the two for a moment, still holding each other, and then Shane’s eyes widened again. “Oh my god, the waffles are burning.” As if on cue, a burning smell entered Ryan’s nose.
Ryan laughed again. “Dumbass!”
“You’re the absolute kindest, sweetheart.” Shane quipped, cursing as he opened the waffle maker to see a very burnt waffle. Ryan’s heart skipped a beat at the pet name, once again.
He had a feeling Shane doing that would never get old for him.