Shyan Oneshots

Hurt And Comfort Shyan

Ryan felt the cold wind pinch his arms. He internally groaned at his choice of short sleeves on a December evening out with some friends from work, rubbing his arms firmly. He had been waiting for Keith at the taxi drop-off for what felt like hours by now, and the weather wasn't getting any warmer, but he knew Keith would need a friend to stop him from falling into the road. He winced gently as a car pulled up to him, it's headlights distorting his vision.
"How much?" the man inside muttered.
"Pardon?"
"I said how much? For the whole thing, completely nude? C'mon, don't play dumb with me. I've had a shit day as it is and now some street whore wants to play games?" The man inside was looking more agitated by the minute, and finally his eyes met Ryan's. He was taken back slightly.
"You're a cute one. What are you doing working the streets?"
The man's point hit Ryan like a truck.
"I-I'm not a hooker! I'm waiting for my friend!" he replied defensively. The man inside the car rolled his eyes and patted the front passenger seat.
"Sure you are, doll face. Now, you climb in and we'll make a deal, how about that? Then you can go home and I can go back to my bitch wife and it's all over with. It works out for us both!"
Ryan frowned and shook his head adamantly, stepping back against a wall, looking away from the man and biting his lip to stop the embarrassed blush from covering his face.
"You motherfucking tease." the mystery man growled, climbing out his car and slamming the door, leaving on his radio so that 'Too Good At Goodbye' played quietly in the background of the situation. Ryan whimpered quietly, shaking his head. The man strutted up to him and grabbed one of his wrists, pinning him to the wall behind him.
"Now you're going to shut up and do as I say, understand?"
"No! S-Stop!" Ryan struggled in his grip, mentally begging for Keith or Shane or someone to come and save him from the disgusting mixture of expensive aftershave and cheap alcohol that was being pressed in his face. The man's mouth was curled into this sick grin and he placed a knee between Ryan's thighs and Ryan kicked his shin roughly. The man let out a groan of pain, doubling over yet not releasing his grip on Ryan's small wrists.
"You fucking bitch!" the man cried out, kneeing Ryan's stomach and grasping his hair so tight that small tear drops started forming in Ryan's eyes.
"Now you're going to be a good little boy and get in my car and be nice and quiet until I tell you to speak and then you'll only speak when you're spoken to, understand?" he said it in a way that assure Ryan that he was not asking. He was telling Ryan what to do, and it terrified him.
If it hadn't been from a sudden hand grabbing the back of the man's shirt and pulling him away from the now crying Ryan then who knows what would have happened. A loud yelling at Ryan's attacker to 'fuck off before I hurt you!" brought Ryan back into the real world. It was the unmistakable, quite low voice of a slightly intoxicated Shane, and a slightly intoxicated Shane was a protective Shane. Ryan felt his legs give out beneath him as the shock set in of what just happened. He sank to the group, burying his face in his hands and letting out small cries. The fear and panic and helpless feeling washed over him and he shook at the force of his sobs. The words the man had said echoed in his mind and he felt bile start rising in his throat. He felt dirty, like the man had thrown him in mud and he was completely covered in it.
Before he knew anything, another figure was by his side and a long arm was wrapped around his shoulders. The warmth was inviting and addictive, causing Ryan to subconsciously lean into it, his eyes stinging from the tears.
He still couldn't shake off that feeling that he was dirty. He had been called a whore, he had been thrown around like he was nothing and now he was sat on the sidewalk, not even fully aware of what the hell just happened.
"Hey Ryan," Shane's soft voice broke through his constant thoughts, "c'mon, we're going home. We'll get you a bath and you can stay at mine and you're going to be okay. I'll tell you about everything tomorrow, but right now me and Keith are going to drive you home. Don't worry, you're going to be okay."
Shane's soft and calm voice, so polar from his usual attitude, was refreshing and mentally soothed Ryan, wrapping him up in a place where he felt safe. Another pair of large hands gently pulled him off the ground and he leant into Shane for support as his legs felt like jelly.
Everything was so sudden and fast and Ryan still felt like he was tainted. It was like a movie, so unrealistic and fake. All he could focus on was Shane's soft and caring voice, and trying not to vomit.
(1/2). Part 2 coming soon (or not. You know what I'm like)