#(It's a little more specific and Shane might have a slight other comment to make and Things to Do but)

[koushirouizumi]

Daisuke, meeting an Autistic Chosen outside of main group involvements: Daisuke: Hey, nice to meet you!! Welcome to the team!!! New Chosen, smiling: Thanks. Daisuke: I'm not sure if you know Koushiro yet, but Koushiro can hook you up to "The Network"! And if Koushiro's not around, Miyako can too!! New Chosen: (I know, but it's nice of them to mention this to me.) Daisuke: And Hikari, Takeru, Koushiro, and Miyako all blog on there to keep everyone updated, so... New Chosen: I've seen the blogs! Thanks. I'll see if I can find time to comment on it... Daisuke: Oh, that's cool! Anyway, if you need anything, just shout! New Chosen: Thanks. Daisuke, grinning: New Chosen: (I'm glad this Network of Chosen is so cool and accepting.)

[saturninemartial]

Me and You - Chapter 2

Rating: Mature/Explicit. Ship: Shyan (Shane Madej/Ryan Bergara) Warnings: Thar be dicks. Series: I love you more than I ever loved anyone before, or anyone to come. Synopsis: The boys go to bone zone. Itl’s just 5000 words of fluffy, romantic smut. Notes: This is the end to the very first part of a series I’ll be writing, which will include other ships like Standrew and Zagene. See the AO3 post for more of my plans.

AO3 link

They finally head back to the car when it starts getting dark out. Ryan’s skin looks a shade darker; and when Shane peers into the rearview mirror, his cheeks and nose are a little pink, which will turn into either freckles or a slight tan. The walk to the car and the drive back home are both comfortably silent, broken only by half-mumbled comments about their surroundings.

Ryan’s gears are turning again. Shane can tell because of this very specific facial expression, that mostly comes from the way the younger man sets his jaw. He’s deep in thought the entire time he drives them back, the entire time they’re eating leftovers for dinner, and the entire time he’s drying his hair off from his shower. He wouldn’t possibly be having second thoughts about this whole…arrangement, would he? The only thing he could possibly be thinking about is their engagement.

Shane feels a little—no, a lot warm when he thinks about it being an engagement. It’s kind of pleasant.

Though they’re not totally exhausted yet, they’re worn out enough to eventually make their way to get ready for bed, even if that means laying down and talking or playing around on their phones for a little while as they wind down. Ryan is curled up under the covers, already wearing his pajama bottoms, no shirt, when Shane comes in from the bathroom. He’s hardly gotten his ass on the bed and stretched out when Ryan is swooping from under the covers and straddling Shane’s legs, the most determined expression on his face. It’s almost a little scary.

“What’s all this about?” Shane gestures to the younger man admittedly trapping him. Ryan is kind of heavy, after all.

“I need to talk to you about something.” The scary look on Ryan’s face somehow intensifies. It’s pretty comical, and Shane would laugh if he knew his boyfriend—no, fiancé wasn’t kind of worked up over something right now.

“So why the…” Shane gestures again.

“So you won’t try to escape the conversation!”

“That’s stupid!” Ryan bears down even harder, and Shane sighs, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

Ryan rubs the side of his face, glancing away, the expression on his features changing dramatically. Whatever this is, he’s rehearsed this in his head all afternoon and probably still isn’t happy with the way he’s decided to ask it. “Earlier, I—You just—Are you serious about us getting married?”

Shane blinks, then furrows his brow slightly, something softening in him. “Ry, get off me.”

“Answer the question first, dipshit.”

“Get off me so I can answer your question.” They have a very short staring match, which Ryan loses; and the younger man slides off with a sigh. Shane deposits his glasses on the nightstand and shifts to lay on his side facing Ryan, propping his face on his hand. “What brings this up? Have you really been thinking about this all day? Those gears in your head—you really need to oil them, they’re very loud and squeaky.”

“Don’t talk about my gears like that, they’re perfectly fine!” Ryan huffs, crossing his arms against his bare chest. He’s leaning against the head board, obviously a little…shy? afraid? of looking Shane in the face right now. He’s an emotional guy, and sometimes it embarrasses him how wrapped up he gets. It’s totally endearing. “We always joke around with each other and stuff, I just wanna know if it was for real this time. Were you fooling around? Were you just joshin’?”

“Ryan…” His name comes out of Shane in a sigh, exasperated but still loving. “It was real. I’m sorry I didn’t have a whole fancy proposal planned out, and I know how you are about romantic things. But I swear on my life it was genuine.”

Ryan chews on his lip. “That doesn’t hold much weight considering how many times you’ve just begged to be killed by demons or spirits.”

“Ry,” Shane chides, louder than before. “I’m serious. I mean it. We’re gonna get married, for real. And even if I was joking before, the look on your face when I gave you that makeshift ring would have made me serious about it anyway.” Shane reaches out and takes one of Ryan’s wrists, unfolding the crossed arms, and brings the younger man’s hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles. This garners an immediate reaction from Ryan, who’s looking on with some sort of…flattered embarrassment. “I love you, baby, and we’re gonna get married and we’re gonna do it whatever way you like.” He’s laying it on thick.

Ryan looks like he might cry, but in an ‘overwhelmed by emotion’ way. As long as he doesn’t actually shed tears, it feels like an accomplishment. “Shane…” It’s quiet and wavering and affected. Shane finds it to feel amazing, to be able to make someone act and feel like this.

“Hey, hey—“ Shane is moving again, now laying himself on top of Ryan’s legs. He’d totally lay himself on top of all of the shorter man but Ryan is sitting up. “Don’t you dare cry. You haven’t cried at all during any of this.” It’s admonishing, but there’s a hint of a grin in his voice. Ryan is tight-lipped, trying to control himself, but there’s a little bit of a smile there.

“Would you rather I cry now, or bawl like a fucking baby when we finally do go through with this?”

“I mean…I’d rather you not cry at all if we can help it.”

“Well, that’s too fucking bad because I’m gonna cry at some point.” But Shane is successful, as Ryan is grinning now, the tears hopefully no longer threatening him. The younger man cups Shane’s face in both hands and pulls him closer, and Shane obeys. “I love you, even though you’re a fucking idiot sometimes. A Jack Links wrapper, really? I like to think I’m worth a little more than trash.”

“Trash spray painted gold, maybe?” Shane suggests, and this earns him one of the famous wheezes.

“You’re the fucking worst.” Ryan’s expression and tone are fond though, and he pulls Shane up into a kiss. Loving and sweet, it’s like the epitome of Ryan kisses; and as soon as Ryan wants to break for air, Shane just chases him down for another one of those kisses. It’s like drinking a fruity, sugary cocktail: so sweet it will hurt your teeth, and unexpectedly intoxicating.

Shane mentally kicks himself in the head for coming up with a stupid metaphor like that while he’s kissing his beloved.

Ryan gets his breath in, and grins crookedly up at Shane. Which is just—it’s so fucking cute and Shane absolutely cannot handle it, especially in moments like these. The shorter man wriggles a bit and then slides down so he’s no longer leaning against the head board and instead mostly laying on pillows. The hands are removed from Shane’s face (after a quick smoosh), and this time it’s his that find Shane’s, and their fingers are interlocked. And now—now, Ryan has their hands on either side of his head, as though he’s pinned down by the hands. And, well, this is something they both enjoy, usually a show of possessiveness and control by Shane.

It’s weirdly heart-warming right now, he realizes; it’s some sort of metaphor for Shane having Ryan under his control, or…or something about Ryan giving everything over to him, which is even more evident by the big, trusting eyes the younger is giving Shane right now.

And maybe—just maybe, the marriage idea sounds even nicer now. The ultimate show of ‘this one is mine, hands off’. They belong to each other, of course, it’s a nice give-and-take, but Shane has more outward possessive tendencies; and, well, they both get off on it.

“You know,” Shane starts, now pressing down on Ryan’s hands and shifting a little bit to be a little more in control physically. “Ryan Madej does have a nice ring to it, now that I think about it.”

“But Ryan Bergara doesn’t have a ring at all.” He grins up, cheeky.

Shane rolls his eyes with a groan, though it’s good-natured. “See, now you’re getting greedy.”

“I think I can afford to when I have such a catch.” Even underneath him like this, Ryan can sometimes manage to be so charming out of nowhere.

“Good save.” Shane leans down and catches his fiance’s lips with his own. Ryan is still smiling as they kiss, tilting his chin upwards and drinking it in. The younger man wants attention, and love, both things he knows Shane is more than willing to shower him in. And it’s a little bit of a special night, right? Ryan deserves all of this and even more, more than Shane would ever reasonably be able to give him.

“I love you,” Ryan breathes before Shane kisses him again, drinking in the words. It’s hotter, deeper, more insistent. You belong to me and that’s final. As much as he loves pinning Ryan down by the hands, one of his own hands gets a little distracted and drifts down to Ryan’s side, stroking the skin lightly and eliciting a gasp from Ryan, muffled by their kissing.

Ryan is intoxicating, and Shane thinks that it might be himself that’s the greedy one, as he steals kiss after kiss. It gets messier, like Ryan’s breathing, but there’s probably no other way for Shane to show his adoration for the younger man than repeating kisses that seem to flow into each other. It’s clearly doing something, too, as evidenced by the tiny gasps and nearly inaudible whimpers he’s gaining from the man under him.

It’s time for his lips to travel, Shane decides, his mouth smearing down the side of Ryan’s face and to his jaw, where he presses open-mouthed kisses. Ryan’s chest is heaving slightly from the heavy, shaking breaths he’s panting out, and his free hand finds the back of the older man’s head, tugging gently on his hair. Shane hums as he feels fingernails gently scraping his scalp, and his teeth graze against Ryan’s jaw gently, teasingly.

“Shane—“

“Mmm?” But he knows there will be no reply, only more quiet gasping. He’s more eager to draw more sounds out of his boyfriend—no, fiancé, so the next target is Ryan’s neck, just under his jaw. This gains him a louder gasp, and a tighter tug to his hair. As tempting as Ryan’s neck is, Shane usually resists the urge to mark it up, mostly for the sake of work. But right now, the temptation is too strong, and, fuck it, they’ll figure it out, just for the sake of showering the younger man in attention, but also for Shane to indulge himself a bit.

He presses sloppy open mouthed kisses to Ryan’s neck, messy and lazy but also devouring. Ryan sucks in a breath and wriggles a little. Shane suddenly feels like his head is being held in place. He smirks—Ryan has given himself away. His tongue lathes lazily and languidly over the pulse in the shorter man’s neck, and there’s the first moan. His teeth graze experimentally over the skin, and there’s a gasp and another hair tug. His teeth gain purchase on skin on the side of Ryan’s neck and he sucks, a hum in his own throat, and Ryan tilts his head back, unable to stop the louder moan that comes tumbling out of his mouth.

Leaving one mark is only the beginning of a process.

Ryan has always been protective of his neck against love bites, as he doesn’t really wear makeup or scarves or turtlenecks to hide them. But this time he isn’t stopping Shane, who’s leaving a sweet kiss against the site of the first one and then smearing his lips over on Ryan’s neck to make a neighboring one. He doesn’t know what they’re going to do about this, but the sound of Ryan’s groan as another love bite is sucked into the side of his neck is too intoxicating for Shane to stop and think about it. Even Ryan the over-thinker doesn’t seem to be holding himself back from enjoying this.

The third one, on the same side, results in a needy keen. They’ve shifted slightly so their other hands are no longer together, and Ryan’s hand that isn’t in Shane’s hair has tucked itself under the older man’s t-shirt, nails digging into skin. Grasping, clinging, needing. Several light kisses are peppered against the marks forming on Ryan’s neck before Shane shifts again. There’s a needy whine/groan from Ryan when that contact is lost, but Shane leans down and kisses the younger man on the mouth again. It’s firm, a little bit fiery, and almost like a wordless affirmation, and Ryan is returning the pressure and feeling until he feels a hand palming the growing hardness below his waist, at which point he tilts his head back slightly and moans, surprised and urgent.

“Shane.” It’s long and drawn out, needy, practically begging. Just the way Shane wants him to be.

“Hmmm…?” The older man’s lips have found themselves on the unmarked side of Ryan’s neck, priming the skin with pecks and a dragged out lap. And lower down, he gives a little squeeze to Ryan’s length through his pajama pants and boxer briefs. The squeeze leads into a brand new suck on the side of the younger man’s neck, and Ryan writhes and cries out from the combined sensations.

“Shane, please, fuck!”

“Please what, baby?” he teases softly when he’s finished making this mark, lips still grazing lightly against Ryan’s sensitive skin. “Can’t really do anything if I don’t know what to do.”

This earns him an exasperated groan, and Shane chuckles quietly. Sometimes it’s fun to tease, though it’s also difficult on him as Ryan’s beautiful reactions get him turned on too. These foreplay sessions don’t ever last terribly long as they both get each other so wound up so quickly. If Ryan were in a better position, his hands would have started wandering too. But even though it looks like Shane is control, Ryan has the older man wrapped around his finger.

“You know how I feel about teasing–” Ryan grunts, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

“I mean, I do have a pretty good idea of how you feel right now in general, baby,” Shane coos in reply, giving the length another playful squeeze. Ryan’s hips jut upwards and he whines quietly.

“Get fucked, prick,” Ryan growls when Shane laughs.

“So no more of this?” Shane lightly strokes up and down the clothed cock underneath his fingertips, eliciting another moan.

“Stop fucking teasing!”

Laughing again, Shane pulls himself up so he can peck Ryan’s forehead, the tip of his nose, then his lips. “So we headed to bone zone?”

Ryan stares up at him, then furrows his eyebrows, his expression morphing into something confused and a bit horrified. He’s obviously searching for words, opening his mouth and closing a couple times as he fails to think of something. “Bone zone? Really?”

Shane is trying his hardest not to laugh. “Yeah!” he replies earnestly.

“When you put it like that, it sounds a little unsavory. Like a frat boy’s apartment. Welcome to the bone zone.” Ryan wrinkles his nose.

“Okay. Do you wanna have sex or not?”

“I dunno.” Ryan pokes Shane square in the chest. “I don’t want you to peter yourself out before we get to the Mister and Mister Madej thing, old man.”

“Well…” Shane rolls his eyes to the side. “You don’t have a proper ring right now, so how else are you going to remember you’re going be Mister Madej eventually?”

The younger man licks and bites his lip. “A valid counterpoint but now I’m expecting you to live up to that promise.”

“If there’s one thing I am, it’s a lover, baby.” Shane kisses him again, sweeter than their sassy bant; and he shifts so he can lower himself, Ryan watching him descend with a small grin.

“I’d say you’re a lot of things, actually.”

Shane’s lips have met Ryan’s chest, and he looks up with the smallest raise of eyebrows.

“A fool, for one.” Ryan cards a hand through the older man’s already disheveled hair.

“Just a fool for you, Ry.” Shane pulls his gaze away as he plasters kisses to his fiance’s chest.

“A fucking idiot and just a doofus.”

“Only because you make me that way.” His lips are working their way down Ryan’s body, and he glances up–Ryan is staring at him with this look in his eyes that turns Shane into goo.

“You’re just…terrible. The worst.” His voice is soft and affectionate.

“Terribly in love, and the worst possible candidate for you.” His lips have landed on Ryan’s stomach, and he can tell the younger man is having a harder time keeping his breathing even.

“Shane, don’t say that…” His hand gently cups the side of the older man’s face.

“You deserve so much more than I could ever give you, Ryan Bergara.”

“But what if I only want you?” Ryan’s voice is so soft it’s almost a boner kill. “I’m lucky to be in love with my best friend. And you’re an idiot only because you don’t realize how much you’re actually worth.”

Shane presses his lips together in thought. Ryan is too sentimental for his own good, but sentimental is apparently what they’re going for tonight. He pulls himself back up, dropping kisses on the younger man’s stomach and chest on his way. “I love you, Ryan,” he murmurs against the younger’s lips before giving him a kiss. “You are my heart, and don’t you ever forget.”

“You’re a fool for thinking I would ever forget,” Ryan replies with a soft, crooked grin.

“Can I get back to business now?”

“Business away.”

Shane pulls back and surveys Ryan. He’s so gorgeous, so beautiful, no matter what. There are a million bullshit metaphors about Ryan being like the sun but none of them would ever really properly encapsulate the way Shane actually feels. His fingertips tuck under the waistband of the shorter man’s pajama pants and tug them down. Oh yeah–even after all that mushy pillow talk, Ryan is still hard, his boxer briefs concealing next to nothing. Does Ryan Bergara actually get off on emotions? The mystery is no longer unsolved.

Shane punches himself for the terrible, terrible joke; it feels inappropriate, especially with the way his fiance is looking up at him: eager eyes, open expression. “It’s sorta unfair and kinda comical, the way you’re attractive. Almost like a caricature of what someone would find hot.”

Ryan’s expression changes to one of confusion again. Okay–that probably didn’t sound like a compliment. “Are you calling me funny looking?”

Shane internally slaps his forehead. “No. I’m saying you’re so attractive that it’s funny. Like, you’re too attractive. Like a character in a book.”

Ryan still looks a little lost. “Ah… Thanks…?” Well, there is no saving that lost time. “Take off your shirt, at least, so we can be sorta equal.”

Well. Though Shane wouldn’t say he is ashamed of his body, he’s always more comfortable in layers of clothes, unlike his counterpart who sometimes wears maybe too little clothing. Not that Shane found Ryan’s predilection to wear more revealing things to be a bad thing; it was the fact that the younger often expected the same of him. Rolling his eyes, Shane complies, tossing his t-shirt somewhere. This lights up something else on Ryan’s face. More eagerness? Whatever it was, it was kind of flattering.

“Now shut the fuck up and make love to me already,” Ryan declares with a squeeze to Shane’s thigh. Well…that’s exactly what he’s been planning to do; but admittedly they both run their mouths way too much at inopportune times. They’re both ready to get down, though; so Shane just tugs the boxer briefs off of his fiance’s hips. Ryan looks electrified when his cock is freed; and he gasps when Shane wraps a hand around it, giving it another squeeze. “Sha-aaaaane!” It’s needy but also reprimanding in tone.

It’s a good time, Shane decides, to reach over into the nearest night stand and fish out a bottle of lube, then tuck it under the covers just to warm it up a little bit. Ryan’s eyes are glued onto him and every move he makes.

“Patience, baby,” Shane soothes, leaning down to peck at the younger man’s chest. “It’s never smart to rush into these things; and I know you’ll complain later if we do rush, even if you told me to hurry.” His fingertips are stroking up and down Ryan’s length, ensuring the other stays wanting.

“C’mon, it’s not winter in Illinois, it’s not gonna be that cold,” Ryan grumbles, referencing the lube. Which is true enough. The coldness of the lube is typically only a momentary complaint.

“Alright,” Shane shrugs, fishing the bottle out from under the bedspread.

“Hey.” Ryan snaps and points to Shane. Specifically his lower half. “You too. Take ‘em off.”

Shane blinks at his still-clothed legs, then shrugs mentally, shedding his own pajama pants and underwear before settling again with the lube. Ryan looks more awake now, more alert, watching as Shane fiddles with the bottle. Shane sort of sits beside of him, easing one of Ryan’s legs up onto his thigh; then deposits some of the fluid onto his fingertips, smearing it.

He watches his fiance’s face as his fingers move in, watching for any sort of reaction–regret, changing his mind, anything. But Ryan is just holding his breath until a slick finger meets his entrance. “Breathe, baby,” Shane reminds him; and Ryan releases a breath, colored with a pleased groan. This part is always fun to Shane: working the other open so he relaxes more, and pushing the needy sounds out of him. As Shane sets a steady pace with his one finger, Ryan arches his back, the beautiful series of noises only just beginning to amp up.

The bottle is stolen, and then Ryan is clumsily squeezing a little bit of lube onto his palm. Shane is curious until said palm is closed around his own length. He sucks in a breath and bites his lip, relishing the unexpected sensation. This isn’t the first time Ryan has ever done this; but it’s a clear show of the emotion driving them tonight. Give and take, ebb and flow, two parts to a team.

A second finger finds its way inside of Ryan, and he tosses his head back with a keen; it also causes him to deliver a nice squeeze to Shane’s cock; which, in turn, earns a grunt from Shane. “Fuck, Ry…” He gets a needy moan in reply from Ryan who’s doing his best to keep pumping, to make this a fair exchange.

Three fingers means a deep groan and a hand loosening from its grip on Shane’s girth. This whole time, Shane has been purposely avoiding the prostate, just to make Ryan needier, and make it really count when Shane gives him what he wants.

“Shane… Please… I think I’m ready,” Ryan manages breathlessly and pleading. Shane knows Ryan would take his length as soon as possible if he didn’t need working and easing open. They’ve tried it before but Ryan is too tense by default to allow that. It’s been enough this time, though, that Shane wordlessly agrees and adjusts so he’s in between Ryan’s legs.

“Sit up a second.” Ryan obeys, and Shane reaches to do a little pillow adjusting so Ryan has a little more support. “Alright.” The younger leans back onto the prop and wraps his legs around the older man, looking up at him with so much trust in his eyes. Shane first positions himself so he can guide his cock and carefully push the head inside of Ryan. Ryan gasps, and Shane murmurs a reminder to breathe.

That’s something that happens a lot, no matter what they’re doing. Ryan forgets to breathe, and Shane gently reminds him.

Shane slowly pushes all the way in, a groan bubbling up inside of Ryan’s chest and throat the whole time. Until finally Shane is in and Ryan is panting as he tries to remember to breathe.

“Alright?” Shane murmurs, barely audible, as he sweeps affectionate fingertips across Ryan’s face. He gets a quick little nod in reply, followed by a rough swallow. “Mkay. Gonna move.” Shane’s hands find Ryan’s and pin them down onto the bed, on either side of Ryan’s little pillow prop. He slowly pulls out about halfway, then starts a rhythm with his hips.

“Shane–” Ryan is immediately whimpering in pleasure and need, tilting his chin back and displaying the marks that Shane made earlier. He’s a work of art. “Shane, fuck, please–”

“I gotcha, baby.” He picks up the pace a little bit. Anything for Ryan. This is enough to make Ryan’s cries rise in volume. Shane has been admiring the younger man the whole time; and when Ryan’s chin tilts back down, their eyes meet, and it feels like they’re worshipping each other, wrapped up and entangled in each other, nothing else and nobody else in the entire goddamn universe.

“Oh god, Shane…” “I know, Ry. I know, baby.”

Shane leans down and indulges them both in an open mouthed kiss. He drinks the whines and moans right out of Ryan’s mouth when he switches it up for a suddenly much faster pace. Kissing doesn’t last long though, and Ryan is tilting his head back once again, crying out louder and louder as Shane hits his prostate, again and again. Shane hammers into him, his face tucked against the younger man’s neck.

Shane normally doesn’t let himself get sappy about sex unless Ryan has dragged the sap in; but this is divine, and he’s determined to come up with some awful metaphor later about Ryan being the gospel he wants to preach.

He tells himself he’s thinking too much, like Ryan always does.

Oh, Ryan…

Perfectly imperfect Ryan, always so bursting with emotion, trying to pent some of it up, but ending up so tense. He teases Shane for his less emotional ways, but finds his own unbridled feelings to be a curse. Shane is glad, at least, to have this gorgeous man under him, crying out with every thrust, not thinking about anything else, just loosening up for a little while.

“Shane, please, I’m so close!–” It pulls Shane out of his weird reverie that might have lasted a little too long, and he realizes that the pace of his hips might have faltered.

“C’mon, Ryan,” he breathes in urging, lips meeting the younger man’s neck again, then his lips, pulling out more sounds as he slams into the younger. Pleads seem to be on the tip of Ryan’s tongue, judging by the way he moves his lips, almost forming words that never quite come out.

When Ryan gasps softly, that’s when Shane knows he’s successful. The whole emotional buildup of the day has more easily brought them close to the edge. It’s understandable enough. The dick and the heart are connected in…some way or other. Shane keeps fucking Ryan slowly through Ryan’s climax, making sure to ease him down from the high. Shane hasn’t finished yet, and Ryan realizes this once he has finished spilling onto his own stomach. The younger man grips the older’s hands a little more tightly, both sets still bearing down on the bed; and he squeezes around Shane’s length just a little, obviously trying to help him finish.

The encouragement is useful, and Shane stills as he comes, still deep inside the other; Ryan, still sensitive, bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. They both enjoy this feeling a little too much.

“I love you, Ryan,” Shane breathes, all but panting. Ryan opens his eyes, all big and shiny and loving; and moves his hands from under Shane’s grip so he can hold other man’s face.

“I love you too, big guy.” The kiss they share is all too sweet and loving for what just transpired; but with them, everything is always about extremes.

When they untangle from each other, cleaning up is a regular chore, an automatic process. Ryan wants to do it since he thinks Shane might be hurting from the pinning down thing; but Shane insists on his regular duty. There’s no real argument–it doesn’t matter who does it, as long as it gets done, and Shane makes it happen.

Ryan is already curled up under the covers when Shane slips back into the bed. The expression on the younger man’s face is untraceable–he looks blissed out, maybe full of adoration, but for once Shane can’t tell what’s going on in his head. He figures that once he’s taken the big spoon position, words will come out.

“That was…wow. Intense,” Ryan practically whispers when he feels Shane’s arm locking around his middle.

The older man kisses his fiance’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

“The feelings, I guess,” Ryan answers with that laugh he uses when he’s embarrassed with his own feelings.

“Don’t worry. I was feeling feelings too.”

“Like how much–” “Like how much I love you,” Shane cuts him off before Ryan can come out with some jokey insult. Ryan blushes just a little; Shane has been pretty straightforward with his own feelings today. A rare occurrence, a Bigfoot joke waiting to happen. He knows that Ryan feels reassurance when he talks about feelings too, that Ryan isn’t just crazy and that it’s all one-sided.

(And why in hell would it ever be one-sided? Even if Shane doesn’t often say things that suggest it, he privately worships Ryan, loves him with his whole being, would do absolutely anything for the man. He hates that Ryan still doubts himself. Or Shane’s ability to love him.)

“I hope you save some of that for later, Mister Madej. I’d hate for the marriage to go unconsummated.” Ryan breathes out a laugh, clinging onto the arm protectively holding him.

Shane tuts. “First you want me dead, now you’re already thinking about married sex. Is this some sort of ruse? Has the plan the entire time just been you wanting to re-enact Ghost? Is that what you’ve been aiming for this whole time, after all these years?”

Ryan laughs, and Shane smiles, nuzzling and kissing the nape of the younger man’s neck. “I don’t think ghost sex would give me anywhere near the kind of warmth I experience with you, at any given time.” Ryan looks over his shoulder with love in his eyes; he’s probably implying more than just physical warmth. “Also a ghost would be a total boner kill, so.” They snicker together, the arm around Ryan tightening even more. Ryan is clearly the perfect match for Shane, the older man thinks.