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mhaccunoval · 5 years

Note

Charmac w mac helping Charlie out after the Bear trap??? :)

12 PM

On a Monday

Philadelphia, PA

On the flight home, the crew that watched the Eagles win against the Patriots right before their eyes (go Birds!) slept the whole way through. All of the excitement over winning wore them out and every single one of them was out like a light within minutes of taking their seats.

Upon arrival back home, Dee, Frank, and Mac gathered together in Frank’s car to go check on the bar, curious about what shenanigans Charlie had gotten himself into. Last Mac had seen of him, half his face – no, head – was drenched in green paint and there wasn’t enough time to explain why. So, Mac thought to himself, he would just wait and find out later.

He was the first to stumble on the utter chaos Charlie had created, nearly setting off half the traps just by opening the door.

“Jesus H. Christ…” He muttered, scanning the bar and taking in all the damaged.

An abundance of strings tied wall to wall. Shoes tied together by the laces off near the door and a half empty paint can still oozing green paint on the floor. A nail gun was precariously set up across from the bar top and some nails were already in the shelf on the wall.

Among this mess, Charlie was laid on the floor, passed very much out, TV still on but no longer broadcasting the Superbowl like it had. The aforementioned green paint was caked thick in his hair and juxtaposed the red stained pant leg, most of the dried blood being around what could only be assumed to be a bear trap.

“What? What is it?” Dee hooted from behind Mac, stepping forward too and running into his back, ending up gripping the back of his jacket to use for stability from her debilitating case of double pink eye.

“Charlie wrecked not only the bar but himself.” He explained, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Whaddya mean?” Frank asked beside them, furrowing his brows.

“See for yourself.” Mac offered, stepping aside so Frank could peer in.

“Holy shit!” Frank exclaimed as he reeled back and looked up to Mac.

“Goddammit…” Dee growled under her breath as she failed to open her crusted eyes to look herself.

“We should probably get his leg looked at, right?” Mac questioned, concern now lining his eyebrows, and bit the corner of his lip.

“We can get Dee looked at while we’re at it.” Frank suggested.

“Guys, I’m fine.” Dee interjected, once again trying to play it off.

“You literally can’t see anything, woman!” Mac shouted, throwing his hands up.

“Alright, alright. Let’s calm down,” Frank interrupted, devising a plan, “I’ll get Dee back in the car, you go get Charlie, and then we’ll go the the free clinic or the ER.”

Mac and Dee both grumbled at each other as they conceded. Frank grabbed Dee by the waist to safely guide her to the passenger seat of his Cadillac while Mac cautiously stepped into the bar.

He stopped in front of the first row of strings, shoving aside the cardboard cut-outs so he could kneel properly.

“Charlie!” He whisper-shouted as delicately as possible. Charlie had never been that heavy of a sleeper so he began to stir nearly.

He lifted his head a bit and blinked softly, eyes lighting up when he recognized who it was as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Mac!” He hollered with a big goofy grin.

“We did it! We won, man!” He continued, slowly sitting all the way up, unphased by the painted sticking to him or the ache of his entire body.

“Yeah, we did, bud,” Mac entertained, “Now can you do me a favor and crawl over here? I don’t wanna risk setting off all your traps.”

“Oh,” Charlie gaped, looking up at all the things he had put together, “Yeah. Totally.”

It took him a solid few minutes, between the way everything was set up and his mangled leg, but he dragged himself all the way over to where Mac was knelt, smiling widely when he finally made it. Mac held out his arms and Charlie fell into them, Mac’s hands in his hair, smiling into his shoulder.

Charlie was much warmer than the chilled air outside, and as soft as ever. Although the leg situation wasn’t ideal, he was glad he hadn’t gotten himself hurt any worse than that. He briskly kissed his cheek, Charlie’s face then nuzzling further into his shoulder.

“If you give me a minute, I’ll get that trap off you and then we can go out and meet the others.” Mac said quietly, carding one of his hands upwards through Charlie’s hair, feeling him nod.

He shifted his weight on his knees, one arm tucking Charlie into it and the other feeling around for a release button or anything.

“Lever. On the bottom.” Charlie finally responded when the search was seeming hopeless.

“Right.” Mac murmured and felt for the lever, pushing it down once he found it. Once the trap let go of his leg, Charlie climbed all the way into his lap, holding him closer by wrapping his arms around his neck.

“I know you’re going to tell me you can walk just fine but we both know you can’t. So,” Mac started, slowly rising to his feet, locking his arms to hold Charlie bridal style in them, “You just got scooped, loser.”

“Mac, you’re so mean.” Charlie giggled, sitting up the best he could by wrapping an arm around Mac’s shoulders, and pressing his face into Mac’s neck.

Frank and Dee were waiting in the car with the A/C on by time Mac managed to carry Charlie out. Frank was fairly zoned out but began to smile once he noticed Charlie’s grin. When they walked over, Mac placed him in the back seat before climbing beside him.

“Chawlie!” Frank happily cried, turning to look at him from his seat.

“Hey, Frank.” Charlie greeted back.

“Dee, what’d you do to your eyes,” He continued, “They look disgusting.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dee shook her head.

He let it lie, waiting for Mac to put his seatbelt on before resting his head on his shoulder and slipping their hands together. Charlie dozed off early on in the ride and Mac let him have it, seeming as he was clearly exhausted.

When they got to the free clinic, Dee was the first out, being led by Frank once again. Mac and Charlie took a moment longer since neither of them wanted Charlie to get dropped or be uncomfortable, and getting through the door caused a slight issue. Frank and Dee took seats in the lobby, Frank filling out the paperwork for her, and on a quick thought, Mac scoped out the bathroom so he could clean Charlie up a bit.

Charlie was set on the sink counter and Mac went to work, being as gentle as possible to scrub off all the paint. It had gotten in every nook and cranny of that half of his face so it took a while longer than he was expecting. By the end of it, his eyes flickered between his millionth damp paper towel soaked in diluted green paint and the green of Charlie’s eyes, comparing the two.

Charlie’s irises were more of a fern green while the paint was a forest green, borderline jade. Charlie blinked curiously at him as he mentally made the comparison but Mac just smiled. He barely had time to throw out that last paper towel before Charlie was gingerly pulling him closer.

His arms circled around Mac’s neck as he met him halfway and their lips crashed together. Mac was momentarily shocked before stepping forward and placing his hands on Charlie’s hips. As much as he didn’t want to, he refrained from pushing the kiss too deep or introducing any tongue, knowing that Charlie would get immediately grossed out.

“I always have been and always shall be yours…” Charlie whispered once they separated after a few minutes.

Mac knew it was a Star Trek quote, though he didn’t know the relevance to what was happening in that moment, but he was too caught up in the sentiment of it and the tenderness of pulling Charlie close to want to bash him for being nerdy.

#pant rambles #mhac writes #amerileste-cressderqueen #drabble #iasip #charmac #this ended up rushed by the end and ended abruptly oops #also no idk what my thing with mac cleaning charlie & turning wholesome is #sorry @ the 2 prompts sitting in my inbox still #hopefully i'll get to them tomorrow #all yall feel free to send more :))) i like being able to write 1 or 2 each night of the week

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shortkingactivism · 6 years

Text

Thank you @amerileste-cressderqueen for your super cute prompt! This is more Jock! Ryan than Badboy!Ryan but I can’t help but make Ryan cute and jock-y. I hope I did your au justice!

Read on AO3

“Kobe!”

Shane shakes his head to himself, watching as a piece of crumpled paper goes sailing into the trash can in his periphery. There's scattered laughter coming from the back of the class and Shane might be a bit more inclined to ignore it if he wasn’t in the middle of outlining his essay. Creating a coherent argument on the Yalta Agreement’s impact on Eastern Europe was annoying enough without a live remake of Space Jam happening three rows behind him. Jocks. Could they be more stereotypical?

Usually, Shane doesn’t mind the running commentary from the guys in his class. It’s never malicious and sometimes even gets him to laugh along. But history happens to be one of his favorites and having to pause every five minutes so Jock 1 can yawn loudly while Jocks 2 and 3 snicker like they’ve got prime seats at some comedy club can get kind of grating. Shane comes to class to actually learn something, sue him. He knows he’s a bit of a nerd.

Eventually, Shane somehow manages to tune them out, getting sucked back into researching and typing up his outline. Before he knows it, the bell is ringing and everyone is rushing to pack up their bags, chairs screeching as students hightail it out to their next class. Shane puts away his laptop, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heads towards the door. He has lunch plans with Sara and a couple of his friends and he knows if he’s late all the only-kind-of-shitty cafeteria food will be long gone.

He’s halfway to freedom when his teacher calls for him.

“Shane? Can I talk to you for a second?”

Shane’s heart momentarily stops, wondering nervously if he’d gotten in trouble before he relaxes again. There’s no way he’d ever get in trouble in this class. None of his friends had managed to get the same period history class as him so he rarely talks unless to answer a question and, not to pat his own back or anything, he’s pretty much killing it grade wise.

Shane almost laughs at his paranoia from something as simple as his teacher asking to talk to him but, realizing that would make him seem even weirder than he already is, simply turns to face his teacher.

“Yeah, of course Ms. Millers. Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, of course not. I was just hoping to see if you would be available to tutor one of your peers in your free time. You can say no, obviously, but this student is struggling pretty badly and you are one of my top students.”

“I- I don’t know. I kind of have a lot on my plate right now with college apps and… stuff.”

“Well, tutoring is a great extracurricular to have and I’d even give you extra credit to make up for your lost time. What’d you say?”

Shane hesitates. He’d hate just flat out saying no to his teacher and the extra credit and promise of beefing up his college resume are enticing but he just isn’t sure. Spending all his free time with some kid who probably couldn’t care less about learning history or listening to Shane isn't exactly his idea of a fun time. But still, he can’t help thinking about how good this would make him look to colleges.

“Would it be okay if we just did a trial run? Like, I tutor them for a bit and if it’s not working they get a new tutor. I’m just not sure if I’m cut out for the whole teaching thing.”

His teacher smiles at him and agrees, thanking him profusely before handing him a post-it note letting him know who he would be tutoring and when they could meet.

“You know Ryan Bergara, right? I’ll let him know that you’ve agreed to be his tutor and you can have your official meet after school in the library. From there on, it's up to you. Thank you again, Shane.”

----

Two o’clock finds Shane halfheartedly trudging across the school to the library. He’s already regretting agreeing to this despite not having spent a single second actually tutoring yet.

It’s not that he has anything against Ryan, in fact he hasn’t even ever talked to the guy. Their school’s big enough that they’ve never really crossed paths before and even with Ryan cracking his occasionally funny jokes at the back of the class Shane’s used to ignoring him and being ignored in turn.

He’s just...a little nervous if he was being honest with himself. Shane’s seen the teen classics, is currently living one. He knows, despite how stereotypical it might seem, that jocks like Ryan and nerdy guys like him don’t usually get along. Like cats and dogs, it’s just their nature. So having to spend prolonged amounts of time with fratboy-in-training Ryan Bergara just seems like a disaster waiting to happen.

Or it would be if he ever shows up to their session.

Fifteen minutes have gone by since Shane had arrived at the library. Fifteen minutes since their specified session was supposed to take place. Fifteen more seconds and Shane is about to storm out of there, seething with annoyance over having to take time out of his day for some asshole wh-

“Sorry I’m late! I had to talk to the coach about missing practice and then he was up my ass about how I’d be off the team if I missed too often and then-“ Ryan trails off at Shane’s unimpressed glare, “uh, yeah. Sorry. For being late.” He finishes, giving an awkward laugh and looking embarrassed and out of breath.

“It’s fine,” Shane says, clearly not fine, “just try not to do it again.”

“No, yeah for sure, man. This was just a fluke, won’t happen again,” he pulls out the chair opposite of Shane and plops down. “So, uh, what now? I’ve never had a tutor before so I don’t really know how this is supposed to go.”

Shane shrugs, “Well, I’ve never been a tutor before but I guess... we can outline what you struggle with most, go over some of your past grades, talk about your studying habits, things like that. And then we can start actually studying next time. Sound good?”

“Yeah but just warning you, you’re probably gonna be severely disappointed in some of my answers.”

----

“Never, Ryan? You never study for the class you’re literally failing? What is wrong with you!”

“Not- not never never. I said ‘almost never’. That’s a little better.”

“Ryan…”

“Okay! I know it’s bad but I just figure; what’s the point? I don’t have hours to spare to try to figure out what's going on 500 years ago and why.

And even if I do it still doesn’t make sense to me! There’s like a million things going on at one point in time, dude! It’s confusing! So I thought; why bother. Senioritis and all that.”

“Senioritis is not a valid reason to fail an entire class, man.”

“I know, it’s just,” Ryan sighs sounding defeated, “I don’t even know where to start. This is probably useless, man, I’m never gonna catch up.”

And if that doesn’t break Shane’s heart a little bit.

“Ye of little faith. I’m offended that you’re doubting my abilities. I’m about to My Fair Lady the shit out of your history skills!”

Ryan raises his eyebrow at Shane’s antics but he laughs all the same so Shane considers it a win.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. So let’s make a game plan! See, like your little basketball thing-y! I’m already helping you understand so much more.”

Ryan laughs again and looks much less despondent. Shane could get used to this.

“Wow, you put a sports reference in just for me? I’m touched.” Ryan replies and Shane has to will his face to keep from heating. Jocks really will flirt with anything in front of them won’t they?

“So! What I want you to do is actually take notes on our assigned readings and what we do in class. From the way you yell ‘Kobe’ every two seconds—” Ryan reddens—“ I can assume you definitely don’t do that and then we can compare class notes to fill in anything you’ve missed.

We can meet twice a week for maybe, an hour or two? And before any big tests or if you have questions, of course. That way we can still have time to do whatever. That okay with you?”

Ryan shrugs. “Yeah, man that’s great. I have practice Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays so it’d actually be pretty perfect if we could meet up tomorrow or Thursday?”

“Tomorrow’s fine,” Shane says as he stands up and begins putting on his bag. “Same time, same place?”

“Uh, yeah but wait,” Ryan grabs Shane’s wrist to keep his from walking away, “Can I have your number?”

“My- my number?” Shane asks a little flustered.

“Yeah, so we can plan to meet up for sessions or I can let you know if I’m ever running late again.”

Ryan shoots him a sheepish smile and Shane feels extremely dumb.

“Oh. Yeah, of course. That makes sense.”

They exchange numbers and Shane manages to feel only mildly horrified. Obviously Ryan wasn’t hitting on him. Why would he be?

By the time they reach the student parking lot an air of awkwardness has seeped into their interactions once more.

“So, uh, you need a ride home?”

“No, it’s alright. My ride’s already on it’s way. Thanks, though.”

“Oh,” Ryan hesitates, then “I can wait with you if you want?”

“Umm. Sure? My brother should only be a couple minutes but thanks.”

Ryan sits down on the lip of the sidewalk and Shane, feeling awkward looming over him even more than usual, follows suit.

“So basketball. That’s uh… neat?” Shane winces and he very much appreciates how Ryan tries to tamp down his laughter.

“Yeah, it’s ‘neat’ I guess.” Then after a few seconds of dead air, “You play?”

Shane knows it’s a perfectly acceptable question but still he can’t find it in himself to not laugh out loud at it.

“What?” Ryan asks, confused, “why are you laughing?”

“Oh my God. Me? Playing any sport, ever? Ryan Bergara I did not know you were this funny.”

Ryan snorts, “Whatever, dude. You should join anyways. The other team would see all twenty feet of you running down the court at them and shit themselves.”

“And this whole time I thought you needed more to get on the team than just being tall. At least, that’s how I figured you got on the team anyways.”

“Fuck you, Sasquatch!” Ryan says without any real heat. They’re both laughing too much to actually be offended by anything.

Unfortunately, they’re soon interrupted by the sound of an engine running and Shane looks up to see his brother’s car pulling up. With a pang of regret he says goodbye to Ryan and climbs in the passenger seat.

He had actually been having a lot of fun with Ryan. He’s even almost looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow.

----

Studying with Ryan turns out to be… quite nice. Different, but nice.

Ryan isn’t actually a dumb jock, nor is he unwilling to listen to Shane. In fact, Ryan readily soaks up whatever information Shane offers him, asking questions about what he doesn’t understand and absolutely nailing what he does. His problem, Shane discovers, is his lack of motivation.

Left to his own devices Ryan would never even think of opening their World Histories textbook. So Shane has to force him to take notes, quizzing him afterwards and making him rewrite key figures, timelines and concepts until Ryan could recite it back to him in his sleep.

But disregarding the whole academic aspect of their arrangement, it’s also just fun to hang out with Ryan. Their senses of humor align perfectly and their sessions have the tendency to run long because they always distract each other with dumb bits and silly jokes. Shane is amazed at how good they worked together and some part of him longs to have met Ryan earlier.

----

Through the course of the school year, however, their academic relationship turns into something more.

Ryan eventually moves his seat from the back of the class to next to Shane’s up front, turning red and flipping his friends off over his shoulder while they jeer and whistle.

Shane shoots him a confused look but he’s happy for the company. Ryan just looks down at his desk and mumbles something about being able to pay better attention from up here. Shane shrugs in acceptance but he does find it rather odd when he sees a flush creep across Ryan’s neck.

Still, it’s fun having Ryan next to him. It gives him someone to bounce ideas off of when they’re given an assignment or made to pair up. They work well together and Ms. Millers is definitely pleased with Ryan’s improvement in class.

Plus, with Ryan right next to him Shane’s become privy to all of his weird and dorky comments. Soon, Shane makes it his mission to make Ryan crack up in the middle of class with weird history facts. This way, Shane figures, he’s still helping Ryan learn history just with the added bonus of seeing Ryan throw his head back in infectious laughter, face bright and warm with joy.

History’s always been his favorite class of the day and with the added addition of Ryan by his side everything seems to have gotten even better.

----

Once Shane realizes his feelings for Ryan aren’t even remotely platonic, however, things go slightly to shit.

If he were feeling dramatic, which Shane always was, he would liken his epiphany to the so-called powder keg of Europe. Replace the nationalistic feelings of the Balkans with his romantic feelings for Ryan and World War I with intense self-depreciation and moping over Ryan not liking him back and it was basically the exact same thing.

God, he was pathetic and even history analogies weren’t making him feel better.

Ever since The Realization (in capital letters because Shane felt everything life altering necessitated capital letters), though, he has been more or less a mess.

Every single interaction with Ryan seems to send him into cardiac arrest, even things that he’d previously enjoyed immensely like huddling close in a library booth to compare notes or Ryan laughing so hard at one of his jokes that he would begin wheezing. Every little thing Ryan does makes Shane’s stomach flutter nervously or causes his hands to clam up.

Shane would wish he didn’t have a crush on someone he was starting to consider as one of his closest friends if it didn’t simultaneously make him giddy as hell.

----

“Shaaaane,” Ryan groans one Thursday, the second after he sits down, “I’m fucking doomed.”

Shane smiles fondly down at Ryan, laughing at how he’s planted his face directly into his backpack on the table.

“Alright, drama queen, I’ll bite. Why are you doomed? Ghosties follow you home? Did the wind

come whisper in your ear and tell you when you’re gonna die?”

Ryan flips him off without picking up his head. Backpack muffling his voice he says, “I’m a dumbass and I forgot that we had a test tomorrow but I also have a big ass game tomorrow that I need to practice for so I’m screwed. Maybe I should ask the Ouija board which I should get ready for.”

“Or, dumbass, you could do both.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Shane snorts before holding up a finger and digging out his phone, “hold on I got the perfect thing for this.” Shane continues to mess around on his phone before smiling smugly and hitting send.

Ryan lifts a brow as he receives a message from Shane before his mouth quirks into a wide smile.

“Oh my God. Did you just send me the ‘Why Not Both’ taco commercial gif? What is this 2008, you dork!” Ryan laughs and Shane finds himself laughing along on reflex, chest feeling tight and warm with how fond Ryan sounds. He’s always glad to distract Ryan from his anxieties.

“So whaddya say? I quiz you while you practice the ol’ game of hoops. Exercising while studying is supposed to help with recall, anyways.”

“Mr. Madej, you, sir, are a genius.”

----

Shane is not a genius. Shane is, in fact, a very dumb, foolish man for thinking he could handle Ryan Bergara in all his sweaty, grunt-y glory. Oh God.

He really isn’t sure what he thought was gonna happen when he offered to let Ryan practice while he quizzed him but it definitely wasn’t this.

‘This’ being a very shirtless, very attractive Ryan only a few feet away from him.

“So,” Shane cleared his throat, trying to keep his attention on his notes and not on Ryan’s half-naked form running suicides across the gym floor, “last topic. The XYZ Affair occurred under which President and involved what countries?”

“Uh. President...Adams? And it was between the US and the French because the French were trying to get us to bribe them or something, right?”

“R-right. And Adams was?”

“Old and white?”

Shane laughs, “Ryan…”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ryan laughs, taking a break, hands braced on his knees to catch his breath and wow that is a view Shane could get used to. “He was a Federalist which meant he liked a strong government and the new constitution.”

“Damn, Bergara, you’re getting good. You might as well be the tutor now.”

“Yeah, right. I’m convinced the reason your noggins’ so big is because of all the freaky history facts you got shoved up there. I doubt there’s anything I could teach you.”

“I could think of a few things.”

Ryan cocks an eyebrow at him looking amused and Shane feels his face heat at having said that out loud.

“I mean— basketball of course! Definitely don’t know anything about that, ha.” Shane finishes lamely and God, Shane would appreciate a good, ol’ biblical plague just about now to come and knock him dead.

“Oh, yeah? You wanna learn about basketball?” Ryan smirks as Shane nods unsure, face still red. “Okay then, big guy, get over here.”

“What, no! Let’s just focus on Federalism! So fun!”

“Nah, I’m good. Now get over here before I drag your gangly ass over here myself.”

Shane whines and Ryan just mimics him, smiling widely when Shane finally gets up and walks over to him.

“See, wasn’t so hard. Let’s start with your free throws. Most children can do those.”

“Haha, you’re so funny, man. Truly, I’m cracking up.”

“Shut it, Shane. Now, bend your elbows a little bit. Straighten your wrist, yeah like that. Now aim for the hoop and shoot. Don’t forget to follow through.”

Shane shoots and misses by a mile. He groans and slaps Ryan’s shoulder when he starts laughing loudly.

“I told you, I don’t do sports, Ryan.”

“No, no it was good for a first try. Here, lemme just,” Ryan presses another ball into his hands and then moves behind him. Before Shane knows what's happening he feels Ryan pressed against the length of his back and he’s being manhandled into position once more. “Alright, there, that’s better. Now I can’t see around your ginormous head so you’ll have to aim pretty well but I’ll guide you through it.”

Ryan’s arms aren’t quite long enough to wrap perfectly around Shane’s but he manages to maneuver his arms into a shooting position before he makes Shane move with him in one fluid motion. Shane can feel Ryan’s muscles moving around his own, warm and cut and wow. This is a lot to take in. He doesn’t even register the ball going through the hoop until Ryan takes his arms off him to clap him on the back excitedly.

“You did it, man! Nice job. You’ll make the NBA’s yet.”

Shane shakes himself out of it. “Oh, definitely. Maybe, I’ll even let you come fangirl when I get signed onto the Lakers.”

“You remembered my favorite team?”

Shane scoffs, “Of course I do. You never stop talking about them, man. Plus, you have an unhealthy amount of Lakers jerseys.”

Ryan stares at him, strangely and Shane briefly panics that he somehow incriminated himself. He breathes a sigh of relief when all Ryan does is smile at him.

“Yeah, you’re right. You should, um, maybe come to my game tomorrow, though. Watch me play,” he pauses, looking at Shane almost shyly, “Y’know, to pick up some pointers. The Lakers deserve the best.”

“Of course, little guy.”

Ryan beams at him.

——

“I am so fucked,” Shane says the second he gets to Sara’s room, planting face first into her bed.

“Hello, to you too, stranger. Been awhile since I’ve seen you without your new man.”

“Sara! That’s the reason I’m fucked—“ Sara grins at him and laughs when Shane chucks a pillow at her “not like that you creep. I mean I have a crush on the captain of the basketball team and my life is over.”

“Jeez, Shane. Since when were you this dramatic?”

“I’m not being dramatic. My life is one giant cliche and it sucks.”

“You’re literally languishing on my bed like some 1920’s starlet. I’d say you’re a little dramatic but seriously. So what if you like Ryan, I honestly thought you guys were already dating.”

“What?” Shane says, choking on his own spit, “Why would you think we were dating? I can’t even tell if Ryan likes me!”

“Shane, we’ve been best friends for years so know that I say this with complete love and sincerity: you’re a dumbass.”

“Hey! I’m wounded. Can’t you just comfort me like a normal best friend. Where’s my ice cream and shitty rom com marathon?”

“Shane, seriously. You guys hang out all the time, even when you’re not studying,” Sara starts, counting off on her fingers, “I once saw him give you such intense heart eyes he almost walked into a locker. He-“

“Heart eyes aren’t a thing, Sara. Plus, why would Ryan even like me. He’s popular, and a jock and cool-“

“Oh my god, stop making this into a John Hughes film. Sorry to offend your little boyfriend but he’s not actually a ‘cool kid’. He's a dork like you.

Shane, you told me he has a ghost hunting kit in his bedroom. You literally told me you guys spend hours playing Sims together and plotting fake murders. You guys are literally perfect for each other.”

“But-“

“No ‘buts’. I need you to get this though your huge dome. You’re dumb and neither of you are cool and that’s why you guys are perfectly adorkable for each other.”

“If I relent will you promise to never say ‘adorkable’ again?”

“Hmm. Nope.”

Shane laughs and he pulls Sara into a hug.

“Thanks, Sara. Love you.”

“Love you, too, ya dillweed. But I can think of one other person you should be telling that to.”

Shane just throws another pillow at her.

----

“So,” Ryan says during the lulls of one of their study sessions. They’re in his room, books pushed to the center of his bed and Shane sprawled across the bottom of it. “You ask anyone to prom yet?”

Shane swallows, his heart a pit in his stomach.

“No, not yet. Been a little busy. Why?”

Ryan looks at him shyly before his gaze darts back to his hands, fingers nervously folding and refolding a piece of paper in front of him.

“No reason, I was just wondering…”

This is it. This is the moment where Ryan’ll ask him, he’s sure of it. Sara’s pep talk ringing in the back of his mind, Shane’s prepared to scream out his affirmation.

“I was wondering if you’d mind coming to the basketball game tomorrow. I’m planning on promposing before the game starts and I have it on good authority that you’ve got a way with cameras.”

Crack. What was that? Oh nothing, just the sound of Shane’s heart breaking, no big.

“Sure, I’d love to. Anything...anything for my best buddy.” Shane says, forcing a calm demeanor, “um, I just remembered my mom wanted me home early so I’ll just see you at the game.”

“Alright. Be sure to get their early and get a seat near the court. Wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Shane laughs, smiling dropping the second his back turned.

----

So.

So Sara was wrong and Ryan liked someone else. So what! He was still going to be a good friend and show up to the game and film Ryan asking out someone else. Of course he was!

Or, he would if he could force himself out of bed.

“Shane?” He heard Sara call his name after another twenty minutes spent moping facedown on his bed. “Shane! What are you doing? You have to be at that game, like, yesterday!”

“Sara, can’t you smell the teen angst? I don’t want to go to the game.”

“Well, Ryan’s waiting on you and he made me come get you so yeah, you are going.”

“Sara, you traitor!”

“Stuff it, Madej. I’m doing this for you. Now get up and shower. I’m going to pick you at a nice outfit and then we’re going.”

“Sara, you’re like zero feet tall you can’t order me ar-“

“Now!”

Shane got up at bolted for the bathroom.

“Just so you know I’m doing this because I want to not because I’m scared of you.”

Sara just hummed, already going through his wardrobe.

----

“This sucks and I’m revoking your best friend card,” Shane mumbles as they take their place at the bottom of the bleachers, as close to the court as possible. The seats behind them were already filling in with students and families and he could see both teams warming up on the court.

Ryan catches his eye and waves at him. Shane can’t help but wave back. Beneath the murmur of people Shane could’ve sworn he hears Sara mutter ‘idiots’ under her breath.

“No you’re not because I’m the best,” Ryan and his team move closer to the bleachers with one person holding an honest-to-God stereo and Ryan holding a big poster. Shane feels his heart clench all over again. Quickly, Sara grabs the camera from his hands and turns it on, “See, I’ll even film Ryan’s promposal for you!”

Shane smiles slightly but moves to take the camera back.

“Thanks, Sara but you don’t have to.”

“Shh! I think he’s gonna do it.” Sara says slapping his hands away.

Shane turns forward, dreading seeing what Ryan had planned for someone else, someone not him.

The team finishes walking toward the edge of the court and Ryan sends him a quick wink before he focuses on turning the stereo on.

Music blasts out of it and laughter spreads through the gym as people register the song being played.

Getcha Head In The Game from High School Musical. Of course.

“Really, Bergara?” Shane mouths at Ryan, unable to help himself. Ryan just shrugs and smiles widely before he flips the poster around. This time Shane physically shake his head in response.

In bold, slightly messy, block letters it reads: I KNOW IT'S A LONG SHOT BUT I HOPE I KOBE THE ONE TO TAKE YOU TO PROM. Complete with a little lopsided drawing of a basketball.

It’s dumb. All of it is so dumb. But Shane is still hurt. He wants it to be him Ryan was making dumb basketball puns for, him Ryan was taking to prom.

He’s so lost in his sad little spiral he almost misses Sara shoving him and sticking the camera in his face.

“Ow, Sara. What-“

His protest dies on his lips as he notices several sets of eyes on him and Ryan shifting from foot to foot in front of him.

“So? Will you go to prom with me?”

Shane stands there shocked. This is a joke, right? There’s no way Ryan actually wants Shane to go with him to prom.

But Ryan is standing there, smile slipping from his face as Shane continues staring at him in silence.

“I thought- but you said yesterday-“

“I kinda wanted it to be a surprise so I fibbed a little. Sorry?”

“You asshole! After we go to prom I’m gonna kill you!”

Ryan winces before he looks up at Shane smiling.

“After? So, that's a yes?”

“Of, course it’s a yes!”

Ryan whoops loudly and drops his poster to try to lift Shane in a hug. Shane just laughs at his failed attempt so hard it feels like he might cry.

----

Prom is nothing like the ones in all those teen rom coms Shane’s life is starting to resemble and it’s all the better for it.

Ryan and Shane are in the outer edges of the dance floor, breaking out absolutely horrible dance moves to whatever Top 40 pop song the DJ is playing. They’re out of breath and laughing and Shane would want it no other way.

Suddenly, though, the song turns softer, slower and people begin breaking off into couples. Shane stands awkwardly to the side before Ryan grabs his hand and pulls him to his chest.

Shane’s nervous and the soft swaying that they’re doing is making his heart pound faster than when they were jumping around offbeat. Shane’s hands are shaking and he isn’t sure if he’s imagining it but he thinks Ryan’s are too where they’re placed around his hips.

“So, uh,” Shane starts, nervously licking his lips, “you think there are any fuckboy ghosts out here, bumping and grinding without anyone noticing?”

“‘Bumping and grinding’,” Ryan repeats, wheezing, “is this 2002, grandpa? What are you even talking about.”

Shane shrugs and he feels Ryan shift with the movement, “I dunno, man. I may or may not be nervous rambling.”

“Yeah? I thought you weren’t scared of anything, though.”

“No, I’m scared of spiders and being forced to do heroin. You know that.”

“Yeah, of course I do, big guy.” Ryan says in a soft voice and Shane feels like that means more than it sounds like.

But then the song is ending and Shane desperately doesn’t want it to end, doesn't want any of it to end so he heaves in a deep breath and takes a leap of faith

“Hey, what would you do if I were to… hypothetically...say I wanted to kiss you?”

Ryan laughs softly and picks his head up off of Shane's chest where Shane is certain he would have been able to hear his heart beating a mile per minute. Ryan looks Shane in his eyes.

“Hypothetically I would kick your ass for taking so long.”

Shane isn’t sure what he expected Ryan to say. He knows that's how he hoped Ryan would respond but still, he’s shocked and he’s sure it shows because Ryan laughs softly and kisses him even softer, a little hesitant and unsure but so so sweet and Shane thinks he can live in this moment forever. They part out of breath and flushed, swaying slowly to the tacky crooning of some generic love song. Around them the dance room is filled with just as tacky and generic decorations.

Shane places his chin on top of Ryan's head, kissing his hair and Ryan resumes his position nestled against Shane’s chest once again. He can feel Ryan’s smile pressed soundly against his own heart and as tacky and generic as Shane thinks it sounds Shane can feel himself falling a lot of bit in love, swaying underneath the flashing lights of his high school prom. He truly doesn’t care. To him this moment feels like it could go down in the history books.

#shyan #shyan fic #My writing #yikes at all these cliches lmaoooo but i had to insert hsm i HAD to #also this is such a self insert for me im dead #amerileste-cressderqueen #prompt

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