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There hadn't been any pregnancies in Shane's social circle so his knowledge is by all means limited when the knock comes to his door.
Through the peep hole he sees it is his new neighbor. While unlocking the door he actively rakes his brain for his name, what turns out not to be necessary.
"Hey, Shane right? I'm Ryan from upstairs. I don't know if you remember. We met a couple times."
There is nothing indicating crisis in Ryan's posture with one hand on his back, the other scratching at his scruff, but Shane still decides to make sure he is reading his relaxed posture right.
"Yes, Ryan from number 8, I remember." Doing a double take leaning on his door to meet at eye level, Shane asks, "are you alright?"
A sheepish grin slips on Ryan's face, "I don't know how to break this man… It’s a bit embarrassing."
"But everything is alright? You're not in labour or something?”
"Oh yes," Ryan's eyes widen, "no! I mean no. Nothing like that."
Shane lets out a breath. In the process his eyes drift down to Ryan's middle, which looks bigger than it had when he first met him. He’d bumped into Ryan shepherding his brother through the hallway with heavy boxes. That had been some weeks ago, Shane hadn't thought about the rapid changes occurring in pregnant people, but there Ryan is, looking both softer in the face and around the middle.
Shane still doesn't know what the hell this is about.
Scanning Shane's blank look, Ryan recognizes he isn't making any sense and picks up the conversation. "Not to sound like a complete creep and or stalker, but I noticed you'd been cooking today. Your window is open and the smell is all over my apartment. It's all I have been able to think about," Ryan's monologue is picking up speed and pitch as he goes on, "I don't mean to bother at all, but it's seriously driving me crazy-"
"The food?" Shane asks to clarify.
"Right. The food!" Ryan exclaims, "it’s driving me crazy."
Not knowing how to interpet Ryan's toothy smile in regards to the statement, Shane asks, "are you asking me to shut the window?"
"I'm asking— or like begging you to share your recipe. It's driving me nuts, man. I don't know what the hell you're making in there, but my teeth are practically watering just standing here!"
On another unrelated note, a pregnant person shouldn't stir this kind of attraction in Shane but something about Ryan really tickles him. He doesn't want to know what it says about him nor what others would say about it but he suspects he's a bit of a weirdo for stealing glimpses of Ryan's protruding bump, fascinated at how his shirt stretches over it. A small comfort is that it's not just the pregnancy. He imagines Ryan would look good even without the glow, especially with that manic excitement enhancing the twinkle in his eyes.
Having been silent a beat too long, Shane almost witnesses Ryan's smile slipping off, and hastily answers before it can. "It's Babka. I make it with my mums recipe sort of by feel, but I can write it out."
"You'd be doing me a solid man," Ryan presses with cautious optimism.
"I can do you one better," holding up a finger, Shane slips back inside, "hold there a sec."
The oven dish is still cooling on the stove wafting a pleasant aroma through the apartment. Shane takes one of his finer dishes and scoops a generous portion on top.
He returns the plate to Ryan, who's posture has slumped somewhat, giving away underlying fatigue behind the nervous giddiness. Ryan straightens when Shane meets him at the door, his dark eyes bulging and jaw dropped. "No fucking way, dude."
When he hands over the food, Shane's own smile is hurting his damn face.
Cradling the plate to his chest, Ryan takes a shameless whiff. "You have no idea how crazy these cravings have been."
"Haven't a clue," Shane gladly admits, "but still happy to be of service."
"Seriously doing me a solid one here. I'll get this plate back to you clean and return for the recipe too. Think the kid's a fan. He's going crazy in there."
They both look down at Ryan's bump. Subtly, and only because he's paying close attention, Shane sees his movement beneath his shirt in ripples with someone is twisting and turning inside. Another thing Shane has never pictured in his mind, let alone been in close proximity to. His fingers itch to touch, he holds on the doorpost tighter instead.
"Yeah, no rush to return the plate but you're always welcome to come pick up the recipe, it's fairly simple if I can make it, you'll be an expert in no time."
"Fuck yes," Ryan whispers more to himself or his baby than to Shane. His head raises before rocking onto his heels, "I'll be around then. And thanks, again."
"You're welcome."
Shane watches him waddle off with a skip in his step. A third of his meal prep leaves with his neighbor but still Shane cannot wipe the goofy grin off his face.