Chapter Text
Ryan never did things in half measures either.
He'd put in every ounce of effort when it came to filming under tight deadlines, sometimes to the point of hanging on by a frayed thread. He'd spend extreme amounts of time researching for Unsolved to ensure that all discussed theories were addressed. He'd work out at the gym until he was drenched in sweat and could feel his ears ringing.
Unlike Shane, however, Ryan wore his heart on his sleeve. He never just "smiled"; he beamed, filling Shane's whole body with warmth whenever he bore witness to it. He never just "laughed;" he cackled, and Shane would increasingly try to get a rise out of Ryan, desperately chasing the richness of the sound. He was never just "scared"; he was terrified, whenever they explored any allegedly haunted location, and Shane would continuously up the ante, having each of them step into rooms individually, taunting ghosts. Shane had never met anyone who bore that same inner working, until he met Ryan.
He was not entirely sure when "it" all started, but he can pinpoint the exact date and time that realization began to bloom within him.
The past few days had not been kind to him. Restlessness gave way to insomnia.
Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday.
His trips to the kitchen at work to refill his mug with coffee became more and more frequent. He began to wonder if it would just be easier to hook his arm up to an IV and get the caffeine in him that way.
It wasn't until Ryan approached him on Thursday that the fog in his mind stared to dissipate, and truths that have been under lock and key for years began to rise to the surface of his consciousness.
"You okay big guy?" Ryan prompted from his side of the desk.
Shane sat with his chin resting in the palm of his hand, propping it up. The fingers of his other hand twitched where they gripped the handle of his coffee mug.
"Fine," he murmured distractedly, reading the same sentence for the third time.
Even as Shane started blankly at his computer screen, he could feel the look of worry on Ryan's face, hear the gears turning his head. Shane sighed heavily, about to blame his current state on work stress when he realized that Ryan had moved so that he stood beside Shane. Ryan's eyes were deeply sincere and brimming with concern, like he couldn't help but spill it everywhere. It made something in Shane's chest clench, and despite his habit of not talking about personal matters to the people he cared about, he found himself confessing to Ryan about his insomnia.
"I haven't been sleeping well the past few days," Shane admitted.
"Why? Work anxiety? Obi keeping you up? Existential dread that eats away at your soul?" Ryan inquired.
Shane laughed mirthlessly and shook his head. "If I had the answer to that, I would be sleeping well," Shane muttered.
He groans when he sees Ryan pulling up a chair to sit next to him. "You're not seriously gonna go all Freud on me are you?" Shane asked.
"Nah, you'd need a bigger couch," Ryan joked and Shane rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. Ryan's expression morphed back into one of seriousness and worry. "Sleep is super important dude. You need to figure out what's keeping you up."
Shane shrugged. "I could also try a sleep supplement."
"Whatever it is you should be doing something," Ryan urged. "Something different. Because whatever you're doing right now isn't working."
Ryan stood then, reaching across Shane's desk to take his coffee mug away from him. Shane caught Ryan's wrist before he could even graze the ceramic. Shane kept his gaze fixed on Ryan, able to feel Ryan's quickening pulse beneath his fingertips. Shane had known Ryan long enough to be able to determine that the look on his face was not one of fear or annoyance. However, it was an expression Shane couldn't readily identify. Curiously, Shane quirked an eyebrow, giving Ryan's wrist a light tug. He saw Ryan's eyes flutter, saw his cheeks redden, saw his Adam's Apple bob in his throat. Ryan made no move to step away until Shane released his grip. They remained there in silence for a moment before Ryan moved back to his side of the desk.
Shane's fingers still felt warm where Ryan had been in his grasp.
Shane wouldn't draw any conclusions right away, but that was the day that he first started to really think about "it."