[SHYAN] skeptics and true believers

ch. 7

Ryan blinked open his eyes, the fog of sleepiness in his mind evaporating slowly as the watery, mid-morning sun streamed onto his face; he vaguely recalled having nightmares as he slept, but they slipped away from him as he tried to remember them in detail. He pushed it to the back of his mind and sat up, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, before picking up his phone to check the time. His eyes widened as he read his lockscreen.

Missed call from Shane <3 (14)

[shane] ryan please come over when you wake up please

[shane] please i need someone right now

Ryan stumbled out of bed, the bleariness of just waking up dissipating as he frantically got dressed. Hundreds of anxiety-fueled situations ran through his mind as he hastily pulled on clothes.

What if he's hurt? 

Is something wrong with his mom? Did his father come back?

He texted me, so whatever's going on he must be okay physically--

But he sounds upset so there must be something  wrong--

He pulled his jacket on and grabbed his phone and keys from on top of his nightstand before almost running out of his room and down the stairs. His parents didn't appear to be up yet, so there was no one around to ask questions when Ryan slipped out the door in a distressed hurry. 

There was a slight drizzle as he climbed into his car; it was one of those days that seemed perfect for relaxing and staying inside where it was cozy and warm, but Ryan was far from relaxed in his current state. He quickly sent off a 'I'm on my way' text before starting the car and pulling out of his driveway-- his heart was pounding and all his thoughts seemed to center around Shane and his wellbeing. 

He made it over to the Madej household faster than he ever had before; it usually took around fifteen minutes, but Ryan was pulling into Shane's long, gravel driveway in about ten minutes, breaking a few speed limits in the process. 

Ryan got out of his car, fumbling with his seat belt in his haste, before going up onto Shane's front porch and knocking on the door. He didn't have to wait ten seconds before the door swung open. 

Shane looked like shit; he was in an old t-shirt and sweatpants, facial hair messy and untrimmed, eyes red-rimmed like he'd been crying. 

"Shane," Ryan said softly, heart aching as he reached out to grab Shane's hand. Shane took his hand silently, before pulling Ryan into a tight hug, burying his face in the nook of his neck. 

Ryan didn't say anything, just rubbed Shane's back and offered him solace in the form of holding him close. His confusion had given way to pure worry, because whatever was going on with Shane had him a mess.  

Shane pulled away and wiped at his eyes, before looking around and realizing they were still on his front porch. "Come in," he said, voice hoarse.

His anachronistic house was cozy after the being in the cold rain, although a heavy sense of foreboding rested atop it. Ryan immediately went to the kitchen, pulling two mugs and the Madejs' kettle from the cabinets. 

"I'm gonna make tea," Ryan told Shane, who was leaning on the kitchen counter, eyes on the floor, "And then you're going to tell me what's wrong. Okay?"

"Okay," Shane replied, voice quiet as Ryan grabbed the tea bags from the cabinet. He had been over so much lately that he knew where everything was stored, and soon enough he had the kettle boiling on the stove. 

Neither of them said anything-- Shane was silent and was refusing to look at Ryan. He wanted to go over and wrap his arms around him, tell Shane that whatever was going on Ryan would still love-- no, not love. It was far too early and Ryan was far too cowardly to be the first to say the dreaded l-word.