#like. devon doesn’t like being seen as weak and is determined to stand up for herself

[ghostyprince]

wrap me up, with your heart

word count: 3.537 rating: T fandom: BuzzF. Uns. relationship: Ryan B./Shane M. summary:  Ryan's a little shit with a weakness to the cold weather (and Shane's jacket) and Shane isn't as tough against it anymore as he'd like to think. author’s note: 3.5k of nothing but pure self-indulgent fluff that took too long to write and now i’m just happy i don’t have to look at it anymore tbh, but enjoy!

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"I'm fucking cold," Ryan says, arms wrapped around himself, grasping at the sleeves of his thin sweater with icy fingers as they're walking back to their hotel after a long, long filming session in a supposedly haunted prison. It wasn't much warmer in there either, but Ryan was too on edge at the moment to care. But boy, did he care now, late at night, probably like one in the fucking morning in the middle of Pennsylvania in November as his ears and fingertips are about to fall off.

Shane immediately lifts his gaze off his phone to look at Ryan. He looks cozy, sporting a soft-looking beanie and his farmer jacket that he always seems to have around, and yeah, Ryan is a little bit jealous. But he knows it won't take long if he plays his cards just right. Shane's eyes narrow and he pockets his phone and yep, there it comes. "I told you, man. Told you to put on something warmer. But no," he drags out the last word while he pulls the hat off his head and straight onto Ryan's with a swift motion, maybe a bit more rough than the situations calls for. It does make Ryan yelp and wheeze out a laugh immediately after, though.

"You have to be the cool manly man who's never cold. When we all know that's a bunch of bullshit, little guy." He huffs, genuinely annoyed and Ryan has seen it many many times but it never fails to amuse him and also make his heart flutter.

Shane takes off his jacket too, pushing it into Ryan's hands who only hesitates for a moment before putting it on. Purely for show, like it wasn't what he was fucking playing at ever since they stepped out of their hotel rooms that evening.

"To be fair, it wasn't that cold when we started filming."

Ryan does up all the buttons, feeling warmer already. Shane's jacket fits him just right to be one of the most comfortable things in the world, just a tad too big, considering how much shorter he is than the big guy. Though, Ryan's opinion might be biased.

And then Ryan catches a whiff of Shane's cologne and something that's just so Shane. It clings to the jacket and it will cling to Ryan too for the rest of the night. Which was the goal all along. It was Ryan's idea to check out this fast food place, tell Shane he wants to walk, to see the city, and complain about being cold eventually so Shane would baby him like he always does. All part of his stupid plan that seems to work flawlessly every single time somehow.

"No, it wasn't. However, I don't know if you know this Ryan," Shane leans to whisper like he's sharing a secret as they're walking and Ryan is already losing it, giggling helplessly into the back of his hand, "But you can use your big detective brain to figure out that it will be cold later at night."

"Shut up, Shane. I thought I would be fine, okay?" Ryan grins, tugging the sleeves of Shane's jacket over his hands even more.

"You always do. I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose." Shane teases him, hands stuffed into his pockets. Ryan's heart jumps into his throat immediately. Maybe after about a year of intentionally leaving his jackets and warm clothes at the bottom of his suitcase or not packing any in the first place, Shane had finally caught on.

Despite the dread settling in Ryan's stomach he almost hopes he got caught. Just so he could get that push he desperately needed in the last year to finally confront his feelings, getting rejected or not. This awkward and albeit creepy flirting needed to stop, Ryan knew that much, but couldn't bring himself to actually end it yet. TJ and Devon knew too. They witnessed a handful of these scenarios and all it took was one glance at Ryan's shit-eating grin over Shane's scarf wrapped around his neck to figure out what's going. Shane's the only one who's so goddamn oblivious to it all.

"Are you telling me that you're not freezing to death in that flannel?" Ryan asks eventually, elegantly pushing the subject to another direction.

"Nope!" Shane answers cheerily. "It's pretty nice actually. You're just a wimp who got spoiled on the constant warmth of L.A."

"We all can't be weird cryptids who are immune to the cold, big guy." Shane laughs softly at that and bumps his shoulder to Ryan's. They're walking impossibly close now, and Ryan is tempted, he's so tempted to reach for Shane's hand. Blame it on the cold, wrap Shane's hand around his, let it warm him up from the inside out. Instead, he stuffs his hands deeper into the jacket. He's already seeing the entrance of their hotel, it doesn't matter now. It's not because he's a coward. It's not, it's just wasn't the right time. It's all not a big deal until Shane gets sick a day or two after they arrive back home in L.A. He doesn't show up to work in the usual time, so naturally, Ryan gets worried and shoots him a text when Shane is approximately an hour late, asking if everything is alright.

He gets a reply shortly, three lines sent in separate messages and he rolls his eyes at the dramatic nature of them, but then again, it's very Shane.

im so fuckin sick rxan i thing im dying take care of obi for me please

Shane has been complaining about his throat being sore and being a bit out of it. It's probably just a nasty cold, nothing to be worried about. At the same time, Ryan can't help but think he's at least partially to blame.

He rarely felt guilty for stealing Shane's warm clothes, because Shane kept bragging about how the cold doesn't affect him at all, that he's just peachy wearing only a thick jumper in the middle of a heavy snowfall. And well, Ryan believed him, took the offered jacket and scarf or gloves in spite of Shane making fun of his 'delicate skin'. He even thought Shane deserved to be cold, that asshole.

But now Shane has to miss work and feel like shit because he acted like a fucking child, instead of fessing up to his attraction and asking Shane on a date like a proper 28-year-old grown-ass man would.

Sure, it was Shane who offered his clothes all the time and without hesitation, however, Ryan was the one taking advantage of it. So he's going make up for his stupidity right now, it's decided. He doesn't have to worry about work, he can do the editing at home that day, it wouldn't be the first time.

Ryan's determination and confidence instantly disappeared into the void as he was standing in front of Shane's apartment, hesitant to knock or move or breathe. He has no idea what happened, he was doing so well up until this point. Sure, he spent like ten minutes in his car, frantically googling chicken soup recipes and being on the hunt for the best and easiest one to prepare.

He ended up going with an instant pack from the grocery store he stopped at on the way to Shane's apartment because he figured it's not the most convenient time to experiment in a kitchen that's not even his. He bought some popcorn too while he was there, the kind he knew Shane loved. It might not be the best choice of food when he's sick, but he can have it later.

He may or may not have gotten this ridiculous looking hot dog-shaped keychain for him also, sporting big googly eyes. That's how fucking guilty Ryan feels. He also thought it was absolutely disgusting, so naturally, he knew Shane would love it.

To be honest, Ryan never once stopped to think that maybe showing up to Shane's apartment out of the blue, when he's most likely feeling miserable and just wants to be left alone is overstepping a line. That maybe it's a little too much, even if they're as close as they are. Just a tad bit. He just went on his own little quest to do anything that would make Shane feel better and to ease the guilt that keeps twisting his stomach into knots without any regards at all to what Shane wants.

So he backs into the wall across Shane's door and fishes out his phone to send him a text, praying to every god he knows that he's not sleeping. To Ryan's absolute relief the little 'seen' pops up under his message shortly after it's been sent.

is it okay if i come over? bring you some soup and shit?

you don't have to

Ryan's heart sank into his fucking stomach and jumped back up to his throat with the same intensity as another message was sent.

but i could use some food. too sick to make anything.

well im kinda already here dude

gimme a minute

-

Shane scrambled to his feet, and apparently, it was the worst thing he could've done because everything went black for a few moments as he caught himself on the back on the couch with one hand. He has no time to worry about almost blacking out though because Ryan is waiting outside his car probably and Shane's apartment is as disgusting as he himself feels. He picks up most of the tissue paper that's scattered all across the couch and floor.

A small trail of them leads to the bedroom where Shane dragged himself out of earlier, a soft blanket wrapped around his shoulders like the world's most pathetic superhero just to watch some cooking show on Netflix because it requires the least amount of brain cells for him to use at the moment.

He attempts to make the couch look acceptable and runs a hand through his hair a few times, but it simply can't be helped. He does make his place look just a tiny bit more decent than it was five minutes ago at least. And that's when the knocks came from his door.

Ryan stands there, as Shane opened the door, hands stuffed into his jeans and paper bag hanging from one of his wrists. Shane would've taken note of his awkwardness if he wasn't so hyper-aware of the way his hair is standing in every direction and how he's wearing one of the less nice pajama pants he owns and an old worn t-shirt.

But then Ryan smiles at him, just like he always does like he's just happy to see Shane even when he's at his lowest and suddenly everything seems a little brighter.

"Hey, I thought you could use a little cheering up and something to make you feel better," says Ryan, almost sheepishly. He lifts the paper bag and giving it a shake. "Got you popcorn too, but you're not allowed to have any until you're better."

Shane frowns at him and honest to God pouts. It's the most hilarious, adorable thing Ryan has ever seen.

"Thought you came here to make me feel better, not kick a man when he's down, but come in, I suppose." He sighs, stepping aside and letting Ryan in who just barely catches the crinkle to his eyes and the mischievous smile Shane couldn't hold back anymore.

Ryan makes a beeline for the kitchen, immediately finding a pot so he can make Shane some soup and hoping it doesn't seem like he's doing this out of guilt. He's just helping his best friend out, not feeling horrible at all about how Ryan's shitty flirting technique got him sick in the first place. Nope.

Shane takes a seat at the dining table, chin propped up in his hand and watching Ryan bustle around in his kitchen. Reaching for a spoon without even having to look and standing on his tippy toes to grab a bowl from the top shelf, knowing exactly where they are. Like he's at home.

The sudden rush of fondness hits Shane like a sack of potatoes at the sight of it. The sheer domesticity of it nearly makes his heart melt.

Shane almost stands to help, but it's not needed, so he just huffs out a tiny laugh and wheezes a bit harder when he starts grumbling about "fucking Sasquatch putting everything on the top shelf on purpose". This is exactly one of the many reasons why Shane adores him so much.

And when Ryan still turns to grin at him, like he always does, even if he's being fake pissy, Shane physically has to stop himself from getting up and just kissing him silly right there. He distracts himself with getting the popcorn out of the bag and that's when he spots the little keychain. A big grin finds itself onto his face as he traces a thumb across the little charm. It's cheap-looking and fucking ridiculous but Shane couldn't give a single fuck, he is so in love.

"Really?" He asks voice strained from trying not to laugh. He holds up the keychain, hooking it on his middle finger and dangling it when Ryan turns to look. He immediately rolls his eyes and oh man, he's definitely blushing, it doesn't matter he's turning away, doing his best hide it, Shane still catches a glimpse of it spreading out on his cheeks and ears beautifully.

"Look, your stupid animated food series ruined my life and I know you have zero taste, so it's a perfect gift." Ryan wouldn't meet his eyes, but Shane can see part of his smile, hears the waver of his voice, despite Ryan being so defensive about the stupid keychain.

"Thank you, Ryan. I like it a lot."

The sincerity which he said that with even surprised Shane, not to mention Ryan, who almost spilled the hot noodles all over himself while attempting to pour them into a bowl.

-

"Why are you here? Not that I don't appreciate the food and treating me like a princess, I sure do, I'm just curious." Shane says, much later, when he's all wrapped up in his soft blanket, belly full of soup.

Which was mediocre at best, but Shane was starving, too sick and lazy to make himself anything earlier, so that damn soup tasted like the most delicious thing he ever had. Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that Ryan made it for him.

Ryan turns his head towards him now, and Shane's a little taken aback by how close they are. Not even ten minutes earlier Ryan was sitting on the other end of the couch, and now they're practically pressed up against each other, from legs to shoulders, the only barrier between them being Shane's blanket. He must've migrated there while they were having a heated discussion about the contestants of the British Bake Off. (Ryan always picks the worst fucking people, goddammit.)

Shane can't believe he hadn't noticed the warmth of Ryan next to him earlier, or the whiff of that cologne Ryan always used lately Shane learned to love. Now that he's very much aware of it, the heat radiating off of Ryan is almost too much, combined with the blanket, so he shrugs it off. If anything, it's worse because Ryan's bare arm is now completely pressed against his and Shane's heart takes that as an excuse to pick up the pace.

"Because you're my friend? I just- I wanted to make sure you're okay. Wouldn't want you to die because of a little cold, what would happen to Unsolved?" Ryan jokes, playing it cool and casual. If Shane wouldn't know him extremely well, maybe he'd even buy what he's selling.

"Sure, that makes sense. Except, all those other times I've been sick you just gave me a 'gross, keep your germs away from me, please' or a half-hearted 'get better, dude'. You never showed up in my apartment and cooked for me. I didn't even know you knew how to work a stove!" Shane grins at him brightly. Seems like they can't have a normal conversation without insulting each other. "How do you explain that, Ry-guy?"

Shane doesn't expect Ryan to go quiet and stare at his hands, the TV, the ceiling. Anywhere but right at Shane. And he doesn't expect the guilt written all over Ryan's face when he does finally meet Shane's eyes.

"First of all, I don't sound like that. And second- I'm not proud of this, okay? Just don't be too mad." Shane's about to open his mouth and ask what the living hell Ryan is talking about, but he gets cut off.

"You're sick because of me. You kept giving me your jacket, remember?"

Shane does remember, but he has no idea what that has to do with him getting sick?

"Ryan, how is that your fault? I was the one giving you my jacket cause you're so goddamn cold all the time. You didn't force me. And here I thought I was the one who tends to overthink."  Shane says jokingly, and he immediately realizes they're having one of those rare Serious Conversations because Ryan doesn't laugh. If anything, he looks even more on edge,  his hand fisting into the blanket pooled around Shane's hips.

"I didn't force you," Ryan repeats, still not quite meeting Shane's eyes. "but I did leave my warm clothes at the hotel on purpose."

Ryan shuts his eyes as soon as the words leave his lips. If he can't see Shane, Shane can't see him, right? He almost looks relieved, finally putting it out there, lifting the weight of it off of his shoulders. And he can't stop there now, he has to push through while he's on a roll.

With a sudden surge of bravery Ryan doesn't know where he mustered up from he looks right into Shane's eyes, takes in his utterly confused expression and flat out ignores it for now, even when dread grips at his heart. It's worse than any haunted place they've been, but he's gonna say what he has to say right now, fear of rejection be damned.

"I wanted your clothes because I love- liked how it made me smell just like you." He says, voice cracking despite all the determination and courage he could muster up to say it. Ryan closes his eyes then, waiting for Shane's judgment. He braces himself for the outcome, for Shane to call him creepy, or even ask him to leave.

His heart would break, oh yeah, it sure fucking would but he could do it, he could walk out of his life if Shane would ask him to. There was very little Ryan wouldn't do for him.

It's dead silent around them for about a minute, thanks to one of them pausing the baking show while they were talking. Just as Ryan's about to open his eyes and face the situation, Shane's lips pressed against his in a split second.

It's a soft kiss in general, but it could be so much better, so much more if Ryan wouldn't be so damn difficult. As soon as Shane's mouth brushed against his, Ryan flinched back, even letting out a yelp, because he was just caught off guard, alright?

And Shane was looking at him now, embarrassed, like he did something wrong and oh God, Ryan can't have that, absolutely not. So he reaches out, not paying any mind to the uptick of his heart as he practically crashes their lips together.

Shane makes a surprised, muffled sound and shortly turning his head out of the kiss, fucking wheezing at him while Ryan's about to jump out of his skin. However, it soon turns into a coughing session and another pang of guilt hits Ryan's chest. At least Shane's smiling when he can finally speak again, eyes all crinkly. Ryan has the urge to kiss him again.

"Yeah, let's not do that unless you want me to choke." Shane's unfairly big hand comes up to cup his cheek and the way Ryan leans into the touch immediately says a lot about how gone he is for Shane. "Besides, wouldn't want you to get sick. I'm absolutely not dealing with your whiny ass."

"You're such a dick, Shane." Ryan barks out a laugh that maybe sounds a bit hysterical, but just as relieved. It's also not so much of an insult when it's said with all the fondness in the world.

We're okay, Ryan thinks, one leg draped over Shane's lap. They're basically pressed against each other as much as they can. Shane's arm fits perfectly around him as if it belongs there. Shane won't kick him out, they're more than okay.

And sure, Ryan moves to get up and move to the other end of the couch, or fucking leave every five minutes, refusing to put up with Shane's bullshit and terrible choices in bakers. But Shane grabs his wrist every single time, pulling him close and not letting go, even when his side hurts from laughing and Ryan wheezes into his neck.