Chapter Text
See, the thing is, it’s Ryan’s apartment.
He knows his mom pays rent on it, but the lease is in his name. It’s his apartment. Shane doesn’t pay rent, or help clean, or fix stuff when it’s broken. He’s funny, smart, has good taste in movies, knows how to make popcorn, and is Ryan’s best friend, so Ryan’s letting him crash while looking for a place to live. Most of the time, it’s a good gig. Some of the time, like now, Ryan doesn’t know why he even bothers putting up with Shane.
“Who’s Liam?” Shane asks when Ryan walks into the room.
He’s holding Ryan’s phone and scrolling through Grindr. Ryan reaches to snag the phone from him, but Shane turns at the last minute and hovers obnoxiously above Ryan. “34, LA, looks like a muscle bro. And his first message was ‘ hey, baby boy ’. Ugh.” He gets a mischievous smile on his face and starts typing.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asks quickly.
“Replying to Liam,” Shane mutters.
“Hey!” Ryan says. He manages to snag his phone from Shane’s hands, but the damage has already been done. Shane’s written out ‘ hey big daddy, wanna put it in my little hole? :P ’, effectively ruining all chances at conversation with Liam who, (though he wouldn’t give Shane the satisfaction of telling him), does look like a muscle bro. “You suck.”
“You wish,” Shane replies, to which Ryan hits him with a pillow. Shane rolls his eyes and puts the pillow behind his head to lean against. He grabs his own phone and starts scrolling through social media. “Oh god, look at this,” he turns his phone to Ryan, where TJ has posted a shirtless photo captioned ‘ good news coming soon! ’
Ryan frowns at it. “Why’s he shirtless?”
Shane shrugs. “Guess that’s how you reveal good news.” He goes back to scrolling through Instagram. Just when Ryan thinks it's over and he’s safe to go back to cleaning the kitchen, Shane says. “You know what, your problem is that you’re too accessible.” He points his phone at Ryan. “You need to get off Grindr.”
Ryan sighs. His being perpetually single is a hot point of contention between himself and Shane, especially since Shane’s a serial dater who has a new boyfriend each week. “Shane-”
“No, I’m serious,” Shane says. “And if you’re horny you can just-” he shrugs as he turns back to scrolling through his phone, “-see what I’m up to.”
Ryan looks at him for a second, considering. It’s not like he’s never considered it before. Shane’s hot, and sex is easy for him, and Ryan’s undoubately attracted to his boisterously bisexual best friend. “I want someone who actually wants me, not a pity fuck from my best friend,” he says instead. Shane shrugs again, doesn’t look up from his phone. “And besides, you’re not even serious.”
Shane rolls his eyes from behind his phone, like Ryan’s the one with the crazy points. “Yes I am,” he answers. He looks up at Ryan and the two of them lock eyes for a minute before Shane goes back to scrolling through Instagram.
It takes a while for Ryan to come up with a reason why they shouldn’t. But then he remembers a 5 foot something twink with bleach blonde hair who was in his apartment last week. “What about Tyler?”
“What about him?” Shane asks. “We went on, like, one date.”
“He slept over,” Ryan argues. Shane hums in reply. “I made him huevos rancheros and talked to him about his mother while you slept!”
Shane scoffs. “That sounds like a you problem,” he responds. “I haven’t spoken to him since.”
Ryan pulls his knees to his chest and rests his head on his knee. “Okay but.” He gestures between them. “This would be awkward, right? Like. Us. That would be weird.”
Shane huffs out a laugh. “That’s on you,” he says again. “I’m pretty sure I could handle it.” He gives Ryan a challenging look from over the top of his phone that has Ryan wanting to jump his bones, if not for the sensible part of his brain.
When they break eye contact, therefore freeing Ryan from the magnetic nature of Shane’s gaze, his brain comes back online enough to ask. “Okay, but what if it’s bad?”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Then we’ll laugh about it, dude.”
Ryan picks at the cuff of his jeans. “And what if it’s like,” his eyes flicker up to meet Shane’s yet again. “Good?”
Shane shrugs. “I don’t see how that’s an issue,” he answers.
They stare at each other for a second before Ryan stands up. “Hold on,” he says. He paces across the living room, Shane’s eyes tracking him with a bemused smile on his face. “Are you even attracted to me?”
Shane sighs. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.” When Ryan doesn’t reply, Shane puts his phone face down on his chest and makes grabby hands. “Come on, Brian.”
“Brian? That’s-” Ryan walks out onto the balcony with his hands raised in mock surrender and Shane laughs.
“Ryan, come on,” he calls after Ryan. “I’m just being silly.”
Shane’s phone buzzes with a text.
RYAN
What do you want to do to me?
Shane guffaws. “What do I want to do to you?” he asks way too loudly, considering Ryan’s neighbor, a 60 year old conservative woman, shares a balcony with him. When Ryan shushes him and gestures to the phone, Shane sighs. “Fine,” he replies.
Shane spends a considerable amount of time typing. When he finally presses send, it’s enough to make Ryan’s mouth water with anticipation. “Oh dear god,” he whispers.
“Is that a no?” Shane calls.
“No, it’s-” he walks back into the apartment, closing the door to the balcony behind him. He leans against the door, refusing to meet Shane’s eye. “It’s a maybe.”
Shane smirks. He spreads out on the couch, long limbs everywhere in a way that makes Ryan weak-kneed, and gives him a look that Ryan’s never seen in all of their years of friendship. “Then get over here.”
Ryan steps forward, drawn in by long limbs and big, veiny hands resting on Shane’s thighs. But then the common sense kicks to remind him that
- This is his best friend and
- Shane’s a bit of a notorious slut.
“Nope,” Ryan says, and he turns on his heels, unlocks the door to the balcony as quickly as he can, and is back outside in seconds. He sits on a chair and pointedly ignores Shane calling after him. Shane doesn’t stand up from the couch, as if he knows Ryan’ll come back. (He’s right, but Ryan won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that).
RYAN
When’s the last time you got tested?
Shane rolls his eyes at the text. “Like, a week ago,” he yells onto the balcony.
RYAN
For everything?
“Yes,” Shane replies. He sighs and puts his phone down. “Ryan, stop, you’re being ridiculous. Just come over here, okay?”
Ryan comes back into the room, where Shane’s still spread out on the couch. He looks so good, and Ryan can’t think of a single reason not. He ignores the banshee screaming at him from inside his head ‘ it’s Shane !’ and walks over slowly. Shane holds his hands out and Ryan sits on the couch, his knees nearly touching Shane’s. Shane sits up a bit, grabs Ryan’s jaw to tilt his head up and oh god, if that isn’t hot. Ryan closes his eyes, everything in his brain going yes, yes yes . Shane leans in, in, until Ryan can feel Shane’s breath on his face and Shane’s hand tightens on Ryan’s jaw and then-
“Holy. Fucking. Shit.”
Ryan opens his eyes and finds Shane staring at his phone. Shane’s hand drops from Ryan’s jaw and he smiles at the notification. “What?” Ryan asks, breathless.
“Melissa Joan Hart just followed me on Twitter,” Shane answers.
“What?” Ryan asks again.
“Melissa Joan Hart? Clarissa Explains It All ?” Shane answers. Ryan feels a little like he’s in The Twilight Zone, like he’s the crazy one for stopping in the middle of a heated moment to look at Twitter. “You know what’s crazy? I’ve always felt a connection with her. Like when I was wa-”
“Sorry,” Ryan interrupts. Shane looks up from his phone. “I just thought we were gonna have sex so.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Ryan, it’s Sabrina the Teenage Witch ,” he says. “We’ll hook up another time,” which would be an absurd statement if it came from anyone else’s mouth. As it is, Ryan’s still not entirely sure he hasn’t traveled to another dimension.
Ryan sits back on the couch and sighs. Now, without Shane staring him down like a wolf, it does seem a little improbable. He shouldn’t hook up with his best friend. Especially not when said best friend is Shane, who has never, and would never, settle down. He would much rather have Shane in his life as his best friend than have a one-night stand that kicks Shane from his life forever.
Ryan opens his phone and goes on Twitter to find that Melissa Joan Hart did, indeed, follow Shane. “Just got cock-blocked by a 90s sitcom star,” he tweets outloud for Shane’s benefit.
Shane huffs. “That’s funny,” he says. “I’ll retweet it.”
Ryan, despite himself, gives a private little smile to his phone. “Thanks.”