Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a weird creaking noise from somewhere above his head that made Ryan snap awake. The sound continued for a few seconds before stopping with a muffled thump. 

That was not good. 

"Shane. Shane, you gotta wake up. Shane, there's something moving upstairs."

Beside him, the top of Shane's head slowly emerged from its sleeping bag until Shane was peering over the edge. 

"I don't hear anything," he muttered with a yawn. "It's probably the wind or your imagination. Go back to sleep."

Ryan could not just go to sleep. Not when a ghost was probably moving around right above his head. 

"I'm serious, Shane. I'm not making this up."

The taller man just grumbled and shuffled back down in his sleeping back. 

For a few minutes, Ryan lay stock still, afraid to move, afraid to make another sound. 

Another creak echoed out. 

"Shane!"

From inside the sleeping bag, a heavy sigh was heard before Shane moved to sit up fully. 

"Ryan. It's an old house. It creaks. It moves. It has trees that rub against it. It has rattling windows. Not ghosts."

Seeing that his little impromptu speech had no effect on Ryan's paralyzed body, Shane spoke again. 

"Come here, Ry. It's gonna be ok," the taller man soothed, snagging the sides of Ryan's sleeping bag and scooting it closer.    

"Look. I'll protect you from any spirits that may or may not be in here. You are going to be ok."

Without further ado, Shane gently moved Ryan around until he was half lying on Shane's chest. He began running his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, trying to do everything he could to loosen the tension that thrummed in Ryan's body. 

After a moment or two, Ryan began to relax. His limbs settled more comfortably as he grasped a handful of the other man's shirt and he pressed his head into Shane's chest. 

"Your heart. It's like a rhythm in your chest," Ryan whispered. "It's so loud from right here."

Shane made a move to change positions and began mumbling a hurried apologize. Ryan just tightened his grip. 

"No. I like it. I can't hear the ghosts when all I can hear is the beat of your heart. Stay."

They lay there: Shane running soothing fingers through dark locks and leaving gentle kisses in his boyfriend's hair, Ryan wondering how he got so lucky and listening to the sound of love that could block out any fear in the world. 

Chapter Text

Ryan was kind of panicking.

More than kind of.

He was three seconds away from having a full-on panic attack.

In an hour, he was supposed to go in and have a meeting with his supervisor. Normally this would not induce heart-stopping anxiety, but the email he had received asking about the meeting had sent him spiraling into a panic. His supervisor said that they needed to discuss Unsolved because “he had a few concerns.”

A “few concerns” could not possibly be spun in a positive light.

What if they decreased the budget? What if they discontinued Unsolved? What if they replaced Ryan? What if they replaced Shane?

Ryan didn’t know if he could do the show anymore without Shane. Brent had been fun to work with… at first. To be honest, he wasn’t quite as quirky as Shane, he never really got Ryan to laugh that much, and he was kind of boring to watch, if Ryan was being honest.

When Shane came in, they’d just clicked and the show really came to life. They became the skeptic and the believer who fought tooth and nail over the existence of ghosts, but who at the end of the day were still best friends. No matter how much Shane pissed him off, Ryan was always happy to go watch a scary movie with him and share a bowl of popcorn.

Then they’d started dating. In a moment of sheer terror, Ryan had kissed Shane at a location. It seemed like a good idea at the time, considering Ryan honestly believed he was going to die, and if he was going to get murked by a ghost, then Shane should know how he really felt. It had all worked out in the end. Shane had kissed him back, leading to an intense after-filming cuddling session at the hotel. It’d been a few months now, and Ryan had never been happier. He had grown so dependent on Shane that it almost seemed as if the tall guy was a piece of him.

If Shane left Unsolved, Ryan would have to end it. It wouldn’t be the same, and filming along with researching would just remind him of Shane’s absence, and it just wasn’t worth it.

Shit. This was bad.

“Ryan, bud, you look like you just had some spicy airport hot dogs.”

Speaking of the tall guy.

"Seriously, though, you look ready to pass out. What’s wrong?”

“I have a meeting,” Ryan managed to choke out.

Shane frowned. “That usually doesn’t induce ‘there’s-ghost-in-the-room’ levels of Ryan panic, though.”

“They said they have concerns about Unsolved,” he replied. “It could only mean bad news. If they replace you, I won’t continue it.”

That stopped Shane in his tracks. He looked shocked for a moment, only to grab Ryan’s hand, pulling him away from his desk and into one of the side offices. Shutting the door, Shane dragged his boyfriend over to the couch, sitting down to pull Ryan into his side.

“Listen, baby. You need to chill out a bit. You are freaking out way too much and overthinking something that’s probably a minor thing. It’s probably even a concern that benefits us. There is no way they are replacing me, or replacing you, or that you are not continuing the show. It is way too popular and well-loved, thanks to your hard work by the way, and they would never ruin a good thing. You got that?”

With a tiny sniff, Ryan nodded his head, his face buried in the crook of Shane’s neck.

“But, what if they do?”

Shane sighed. “Well, I was told to come to this meeting, too… So, I’ll be there beside you the whole time. If they say anything like that, we’ll provide a well-reasoned argument about what they shouldn’t end the show or replace one of us. And if that doesn’t work, we can challenge them to a duel. How does that sound?”

“…good.”

How the fuck did Shane always know how to make Ryan feel better.

For another minute or two, Ryan just sat there, enjoying the soothing effect of being held by his boyfriend and using Shane’s distinct scent of warm tea and cozy flannels to calm his racing heart. A while later he was forced to move his arms to check the time on his phone.

Sitting up, he turned to Shane.

“It’s game time.”

“I can’t fucking believe!” Ryan whooped with a grin. “An increased budget for the new supernatural season!”

Shane laughed. “See, I told you. It all worked out totally fine. Now you can buy those ghost devices you’ve been drooling over.”

Ryan’s eyes lit up. It was finally happening. His show was being taken seriously, and better yet, was going to be better than ever thanks to this extra money. Even more importantly, he got to continue with Shane.

“Just wait till I show you this thing called a spirit box, you shaniac…”

Chapter Text

It had become a habit. Shane coming over, Ryan sticking in a movie, the two of them enjoying a bowl of popcorn together. But that bowl always came with a price.

Since he was a kid, Ryan had been allergic to corn. He was tested by multiple doctors and they all came to the same conclusion. No more corn on the cob, corn chowder, cornbread, and worst of all, no more popcorn. How could his favorite food be trying to kill him?

After a while, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He ate popcorn, busted out in hives, and was rushed to the hospital. There, a doctor prescribed him a shot to take after he ate anything corn that would alleviate the reaction. If Ryan ate more than a certain amount, though, no shot would be able to save him, meaning the hospital was his only option.

So night after night, they shared a bowl of ambrosia, Ryan making sure to only eat a little bit. But this time, he got distracted, too caught up in Regan’s levitating and speaking in tongues to monitor his intake. Moments after the movie ended, he spotted the recognizable swollen red bumps popping up on his arms, then felt them on his neck.

Shit. This was bad.

He got up quickly, trying to book it to the bathroom before Shane noticed.

“Ryan? What’s wrong?”

Shit.

“Nothing! That movie freaked me the fuck out and now I have to pee.”

“Uh huh. Normally I’d believe you, but I can tell you’re trying to hide something,” Shane shouted back.

Ryan heard him rustling around on the couch and later shuffling down the hall. The bathroom door was closed, but it wouldn’t matter in a couple of minutes. He needed medical attention and quickly. The shot had gone in and out without doing a damn thing. A ride to the hospital was what came next, but Ryan would rather die alone in the bathtub than admit to Shane he was allergic to their favorite food.

“Ryan, you’re not even peeing. Come on, baby, let me in. What’s wrong?”

A few tears fell from Ryan’s eyes. It wasn’t fair. Why did the world hate him so much?

“No thanks. I’m fine,” he spoke to the other side of the door, trying to keep his voice steady.

From outside, he could hear Shane drop his head against the door. “Please, Ry, let me in. You’re acting really weird and I just want to help.”

Ryan began to cry harder, more audibly this time.

“Ok, I’m sorry, but I’m coming in.” There was a rustling above the doorframe, where a key to each door was kept, and a click inside the lock. Drawing into himself, Ryan tried to hide his neck and arms as much as possible. He knew he was overreacting, that he was dramatizing the whole event too much, but he’d gotten this far without Shane knowing, so why did he have to find out now.

The door swung open.

“Ryan?”

Within seconds, Shane was crouching by the tub, hands reaching out to hold his boyfriend.

“Ry, what’s wrong with your neck? Are you sick?”

The smaller man sniffled.

“I’m… I’m allergic to popcorn.”

Dead silence.

"You’re... what?”

Ryan’s tears started up again. This was why he didn’t want to tell him. Shane would freak out, they’d never eat popcorn together again, and he’d probably ruin the food for his boyfriend.

“I’m allergic to popcorn and I can’t eat it without taking a shot right afterwards and if I eat too much the shot doesn’t work and I break out into hives and have to go the hospital and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you be-”

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down. It’s alright, baby, you don’t need to be sorry. Let’s get to the car, and we can talk on the way, ok?” Shane interrupted. “Just calm down. It’s all good.”

The taller man stood up a bit before reaching down to scoop Ryan up in his arms. Snuffling, Ryan nuzzled his face into the crook of Shane’s neck. It was his favorite place on the planet, one that made him instantly feel a bit better.

They made their way out to the car. Shane made sure his boyfriend had his seat belt buckled, already pulling out of the driveway in attempt to move quickly. Their hands never let go of the other’s the entire way there.

“I’ve never gone that long without help before. My throat closing up was a new one. I had no idea that could happen,” Ryan remarked, lying safe and sound next to his boyfriend in bed later that night.

Shane snorted. “Well, it won’t happen again. I’m keeping an eye on your corn intake. Don’t want you to have to haunt my apartment and be known as the ghost that died from eating popcorn.”

With a tiny wheeze, the believer snuggled up closer to his skeptic.

“I would be the saddest ghost ever if that happened.”

And as they settled in for the night, Ryan knew his secret was safe with Shane.

Chapter Text

In afterthought, Ryan realized it was stupid to have let Shane goad him into crawling into the miniscule tunnel. Yes, he was the smaller of the two, and yes, he had wanted to see where it led just as much as Shane, but Ryan should’ve known there was no good luck when it came to ghost hunting. Here he sat, trapped behind the cave-in that occurred as soon as his legs had slid inside.

Ryan felt terribly alone. It was just him and the flashlight behind a blockade of drywall and stone. Logically, he knew Shane was just on the other side, probably as panicked as he was. But that did nothing to calm the increasing fear residing in his stomach.

“Shane?” he called out faintly.

There was a sound of rocks being unsettled, then silence.

"Oh god,” Ryan mumbled. The other end of the tunnel loomed dark and ominous behind him, a reminder that anything could lie beyond.

He thought he was going to throw up. “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered before calling out again. “Shane? Please respond?”

Then, a faint voice. It kind of sounded like his name.

A tiny sob escaped him. “Oh my god, Shane, please, you have to get me out!”

On the other side of the cave-in, rubble began to cascade more loudly.

“Ryan? Ryan, can you hear me?”

Thank fuck.

“Yes, yes I can, please get me out, Shane,” Ryan cried back.

“I’m trying, Ry, I swear, but all I have to dig are my hands, and the cameramen left.”

More digging.

“It’s… it’s kind of a lot of rock. It might take me awhile. I’m trying, I swear.”

Ryan was actually kind of impressed that the situation could get even worse. It was horrible, being so close to his boyfriend and yet so far away. In all honesty, he was probably closer to the ghosts at the other end of the tunnel.

“Wait, Shane, the tunnel!” he shouted. “What if I try to get out at the other end?”

After a moment, the taller man replied. “I… I don’t know. What if it’s a dead end? Or booby trapped? Or it goes nowhere?”

Those were all good points.

“I’m scared,” Ryan whispered.

And it seemed Shane had heard him, because he heard a quiet reply.

“Me too.”

About twenty minutes later, Shane still digging, Ryan was wishing he had his phone. It was too hard for Shane to talk, try to listen, and dig, so they’d decided just digging was the best option. It left Ryan with no distraction, and nothing to do but wait. He couldn’t dig, as there was no room, and the action would probably create so much dust he’d asphyxiate and die.

That left the darkness. All he could do was stare, trying to not think about what lay past the edge of his flashlight’s glow.

Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, it’s going to be okay, Shane will get you out was the constant mantra he chanted in his head. And as soon as Shane did, he was getting the Boyfriend of the Year award.

Maybe Ryan should try talking to himself.

“Shane will get me out. We’ll have a dramatic kiss, and then I’ll probably cry out – due to happiness. We’ll pack up the gear and drive back to the hotel and I’m never letting go of Shane’s hand ever again and we’ll cuddle and watch a movie and just eat popcorn and it will be fine.”

"Ry, are you talking to me? Or yourself?”

If he had been in any other situation, Ryan would have been mortified.

“Myself. The dark is creepy.”

Then he realized.

“Shane! Your voice is so much closer!”

Grinning, he turned towards the cave-in, eager to see his love’s face and dorky hair again. In fact, there seemed to be a bit of illumination sneaking through cracks in the rotted drywall.

Sounding much clearer, Shane replied, “Almost done, baby. Hang in there.”

Moments later, a hand pushed through the rubble, and the light flooded in.

Settled on the hotel bed, Shane against the headboard and Ryan leaning back on his chest, the smaller man gently kissed his boyfriend’s bandaged hands.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said gently, “I didn’t mean for you to hurt yourself.”

With a sigh, Shane brushed his lips across the top of Ryan’s head. “Don’t ever apologize. Wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have urged you to go in there.”

Frowning, Ryan turned around to face him. “Well, it’s not your fault either. We tell each other to do stupid shit all the time, and I went along with it. I shouldn’t have made you dig me out. I should’ve just waited.”

"I’d rather have messed up my hands than had you panicking in there alone anymore then you already were. Getting you out as soon as possible was my only priority.”

In seconds, Ryan flipped himself around to the face the skeptic. He leaned down and pecked Shane on his forehead, nose, both cheeks, and then his lips. The taller man smiled up at him.

“So, do I still get that Boyfriend of the Year award?”

The believer let out a wheeze.

“You betcha.”

Chapter Text

Even though he tried not to think about that time of his life, it was always there. Haunting him, lurking at the edges of his memory, hidden in the forgotten mementos of his apartment. It lingered in the pots he used to cook pasta for her in, and in the half-empty bottles of flower-scented shampoo at the bottom of the bathroom cabinet.

Ryan knew, logically, that the past was the past. They were all done with that time, so it shouldn’t bother him anymore. Everyone involved was happy, but that didn’t mean Ryan didn’t worry they could’ve been happier soon if it weren’t for him.

Hiding the fact that he was gay was the biggest mistake of his life, one he had to live with every day.

It expressed itself in the way Shane would hesitate before holding his hand in public, the way people would start to talk about girls with him and then cut themselves off, the way the Internet would pair him with every single one of his Buzzfeed co-workers even though he was dating Shane.

In hindsight, shoving himself headfirst into the closet and making an agreement with Helen to be each other’s beards was not his brightest moment. At the time, it had been safe. A way to protect himself from the potential judgement and discrimination one might face at a new job. Everything was perfectly fine, until Shane came into the picture. Ryan slowly falling for him was one of the worst times of his life, because flirting was seen as bros being bros, touching was friendly, there was no one but Helen to complain to about how much he longed to kiss Shane’s lips.

Helen, of course, was wonderful. So wonderful that everyone thought of them as the power couple, albeit one that wasn’t overly affectionate in public. She was kind, and understanding, someone who always listened when Ryan needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to rant to. Months of Ryan’s pining, though, must’ve been too hard to handle, because one day she snapped.

“Why don’t we just break up?” she huffed angrily. “You want this guy, Shane. You know I have a massive crush on Sara, which is why I always want to tag alone when you all hang out. You know this could all be solved if we broke up and just talked to them!”

Ryan was blindsided. His carefully constructed reality might come crashing down around him.

“But… he’ll still think I’m straight.”

Helen sighed. “Then tell him. Tell him you like guys, and totally want to jump his bones. No big deal.”

With a glare, Ryan replied, “Just because you’re all ready to have some huge love confession and pour your heart out to Sara doesn’t mean I’m ready to come out of the closet and ask Shane out!”

“I don’t know why not!”

And that had been the end of it. Ryan simply pondered why he wasn’t ready, and found a well of fear deep inside him. Irrational fear, the kind of fear that manifested itself when one was comfortable and started to reject to idea of change.

So Ryan jumped.

He and Helen broke up a few days later. With Helen’s confession to Sara, she exposed their whole “beard” scheme, effectively outing Ryan, something he was okay with.

Shane must’ve heard about it through the grapevine, because one day he showed up at Ryan’s desk with two coffees and a massive frown.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Taking his headphones off, Ryan pretended to be oblivious. “Tell you what?”

Shane frowned more, if that was possible. “Stop fucking around, Ryan. I thought we were best friends. Why didn’t you tell me you were gay? I mean, if you wanted to keep it a secret while you and Helen were pretending to date, fine. But afterwards? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Ryan had tried to think of a placating answer, one that would buy him time till he decided to tell Shane how he felt. His heart, and therefore his mouth, had other ideas. It all came pouring out in a rush.

“I… You see… It’s because I have the biggest crush on you and I’ve wanted to ask you out for months, but I was so afraid, and staying with Helen just seemed safer because at least we were friends, and that was enough. But she’s been crushing on Sara and wanted to ask her out and finally we decided that we should stop faking it, so we broke up. Even though we broke up, I didn’t want you to judge me or not like me anymore cause I was gay, or because I liked you as more than a friend, so I didn’t want to tell you, but you found out anyway so- ”

“Ryan,” Shane cut him off.

The smaller man stopped his rambling and mumbled back a tiny “yes?”

“I would never think of you any differently for being gay. If anything, I like you more. Because that means I can do this.”

Then Shane leaned down, and gently kissed him. When he finally pulled away, Ryan was breathless. 

The taller man grinned at his awed look and said, “I like you as more than a friend too, Ry.”

Ever since then, the two couples have been infinitely happier. Everyone at the office has rethought their power couple opinions, and can sense the rightness that permeates the room whenever either pair enters.

It still tears at Ryan, though. That he could’ve known what waking up next to Shane, gripping Shane’s hand on location, feeding popcorn to each other, and much more months earlier if he would’ve faced his fears earlier.

“Ry?”

With one syllable, the skeptic broke Ryan from his train of thought.

“Yeah?”

 “What are you worrying about over there?”

The believers pasted on a false smile and delivered a mostly-happy sounding “Nothing!” back at his boyfriend.

Shane gave him a look. “Yeah right. You’re beating yourself up over something over there. Come on, tell me.”

Ryan let out a small sigh. “I… Why didn’t I just tell you sooner? That I liked you and wanted to go on a date you with? I could’ve saved you the heartache, and Helen and Sara the heartache, and…”

“Ryan,” his boyfriend interrupted, sitting down next to him and softly taking his hands. “It doesn’t matter. We are here now. Maybe we wouldn’t have been ready when we first knew. Maybe some relationship crisis would’ve popped up and we wouldn’t have worked out. Just as you think things could’ve been better if we’d gotten together sooner, things could’ve been worse. So just stop worrying. I love you, right here, right now, and that’s what matters.”

Beaming up shyly at Shane, Ryan whispered back, “I love you, too,” and moved in to snuggle up into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck.

Some things were better left in the past, folded neatly in the back of the closet.

Chapter Text

At first, Ryan wasn’t quite sure what had woken him up. The room was silent and there was no movement. But when he turned over to face his boyfriend and go back to sleep, he noticed Shane’s eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Shane? What’s wrong, babe?” he whispered softly, pushing up on one elbow to look his partner in the eyes.

Shane’s eyelids drifted shut slowly, then reopened again, as if he was coming back to life after being powered down. He licked his lips gently before speaking.

“I… Well, I… It’s not that big a deal. Just a nightmare.”

At this, Ryan sat all the way up.

“What the fu- Not that big a deal? Shane! When I have a nightmare, you’re all over me, comforting me and making sure I’m okay!”

His boyfriend frowned, as if confused by the notion that the two men’s bad dreams were at all similar and should be treated as such.

“Yeah, but mine wasn’t like some horror movie come to life. It wasn’t a jump scare kinda thing like yours are. It was just more, I don’t know, haunting. Settling into your bones and making it hard to not dwell on it kinda thing.”

The believer let out a long sigh and maneuvered himself under Shane until the other man’s head was laying on his chest. Shane, still exuding false calm with his measured breaths and serene face, gripped Ryan’s shirt securely with his fist.

After giving his boyfriend a moment, Ryan asked, “Want to tell me what the nightmare was about?”

The shudder he felt go through the body beside him sent chills down Ryan’s spine. Shane’s grip became tighter.

A second passed. Then another. A minute. Resigned to having to wait forever, Ryan began pressing kisses in the skeptic’s hair, content to stay awake till his boyfriend was feeling better.

He was surprised when Shane’s voice broke the still silence, sounding infinitely small in a way it never had before.

“You were dead.”

The breath rushed out of Ryan’s lungs, leaving him with an aching chest, but Shane kept on talking.

“…something normal, illness or car crash or whatever, but you- You died. I went to your grave with a bouquet of flowers. Saw your name on that stupid tombstone. It was so real. I was just there, touching your name. All I could do. And I just remember thinking over and over again that I wished ghosts were real, that I’d take back everything I ever said about them, become a believer if just so that you wouldn’t be totally gone. I wanted you back so, so bad, and in the end, my own philosophy and thinking kept that from ever happening.”

At that, Ryan pulled Shane into a real hug, holding on and just squeezing.

“I’m right here, I’m right here, it’s okay, I promise, I’m okay, I won’t leave you, Shane, I promise, it’s okay…” was what Ryan kept murmuring in his love’s ear, hoping the message would get through.

It took a long time for Shane to pull away from Ryan’s embrace.

Looking at him with red-rimmed eyes and a dry face, Shane asked, “I just want to not think about it anymore. I need a distraction. Please?”

It was the little unsure question at the end that broke the last unharmed piece of Ryan’s heart.

“Of course. Come on, stand up,” Ryan placated with a loving smile.

And then he stood up on the bed, grabbing his phone along the way. Shane looked up at him in confusion.

“On the bed?”

“Yes, on the bed,” the believer wheezed with a grin. “Now come on, Bigfoot, I’ve been towering over you for far too long now and I need you to stop me from being the freakishly tall one on this mattress.”

After pulling his partner to his feet beside him, Ryan unlocked his phone, scrolling a moment to find what he wanted.

“Alright, you noodle you, I better see you dancing!”

The look on Shane’s face when Relish Life from the Hot Daga began playing was something Ryan would remember forever. He burst out laughing, almost falling over and knocking Ryan off the bed. Giggling at his reaction, Ryan began to jump around, forcing Shane to bounce with him.

That was where the dawn found them. Dancing on the bed, laughing and in love.