#shaniaca

Ryan lay in his sleeping bag in the Sallie house. His back is aching because of how tense his shoulders have been all day; feet cold because he forgot socks; and ears straining to listen to the silence of the night - listening for any sounds.

Ryan was actually terrified. He’s always scared, but tonight, tonight it was worse. This house is definitely the most haunted place he’s ever been, and right now, he can feel it. In every part of his body. He wants more than anything to just grab his stuff and run. But Ryan knows Shane would laugh.

A floorboard creaks above, and his heart pauses, then gallops into action. Ryan is surprised the desperate thudding in his chest didn’t wake Shane. He tries to reason with himself, it was probably just the house setting. It’s really old, it’s already settled, his subconscious contributes.

He listens again, holding his breath anxiously. Again, there was a low thud from the first floor, and this time he couldn’t help but gasp. The cold air Ryan sucks into his lungs makes him shiver pathetically.

Howling wind rattles the window panes, and a door upstairs slams, and Ryan actually screams. Beside him, his friend, the skeptic, shoots upright in his own bag, shaking his head and opening his bleary eyes.

“Ryan- what the fuck?” Shane says, already sounding pissed.

“There’s someone upstairs,” Ryan replies breathlessly. Shane sighs, shaking his head again, an explanation already on his lips. But upon actually looking down at his friend, he stops.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?,” Shane whispers. His brown eyes are soft with genuine concern.

Ryan isn’t sure how it happened, but he realises that he’s hunched up in a ball, pupils blown wide, arms wrapped around himself tightly; and he’s trembling. His heart rattles almost painfully in his chest, and his breathing is too fast.

“Um- no, to be quite honest. I don’t know what’s the matter with me, but I’m so scared right now, Shane. There’s a demon upstairs, and you were lying on a pentagram earlier, so it’s probably pissed off. And it’s cold in here, it’s cold in here isn’t it? And I didn’t bring socks either-“ Ryan cut himself short, hearing the wobbly tone he’s speaking with, and realising that he was babbling like a five year old.

“Hey, you’re okay, little guy,” Shane says. The taller man moves a little closer, and presses a warm, gentle hand to Ryan’s shoulder. It’s warm. How is he possibly warm? Ryan thinks, somewhere amidst the fear.

“Fuck- I’m so scared, Shane.” He mutters, feeling himself sink into the contact. Shane makes him feel safe, like no demon could really touch him. Ryan turned to face the skeptic, still quivering.

“There are footsteps up there,” he pointed above, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “and whatever it is is going to come in here and kill me, kill you, kill us both!” For some reason, the thought of Shane dying makes Ryan shudder again.

Shane scoots even closer, and moves his arm to rest around Ryan’s shoulder.

“Really Ry, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m demon-proof remember,” Shane jokes, trying to comfort Ryan in the only way he can think - laughter.

Ryan wheezes a little, and Shane smiles. The believer happily sinks against Shane’s body now, moulding into the half-embrace. It makes him feel safer. Shane is so warm, if it wasn’t almost 2am, and he wasn’t scared-shitless, Ryan would probably wonder if his co-worker had a fever.

“Shall we try and get some shut-eye? Now that you’re untouchable, ‘nd stuff?” Shane murmurs, somewhere above Ryan’s head.

Ryan feels so warm, so calm; so safe, that he’d just started to nod off. With Shane’s heartbeat drumming in his ears, he could not longer hear any spooky sounds in the dusty old house, and with Shane’s body against his, he was no longer icy cold.

“Mmm-“ Ryan mumbled, not making any efforts to move. He feels more than hears Shane chuckle. When the older man tries to shift, Ryan protests by tucking his chin into the crook of Shane’s neck. Shane sighs.

“Hey, Ryan! Let’s at least lay down?” He demands, fussing with the blankets between them. Ryan nods, but refuses to move his head. He knows the second that he loses Shane’s heat, his protection, the sound of his heart; he’ll be spooked all over again.

Shane manages to lie down, and then pull Ryan atop of his long body. Ryan’s head finds its way back to tuck under Shane’s chin, and he throws an arm across his friends’ torso.

Shane’s flannel is soft under his cheek, and Ryan smiles against it. Shane curls an arm across Ryan’s back, and that’s warm too. Ryan sighs, content, and listens to the steady rhythm of Shane’s heart.