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Fuck Fear

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Ryan's heart is pounding in his throat, and he can't breath evenly. Even with his eyes closed, he can still feel the figure hovering over him. When he opens his eyes, it's gone. Still, he's sure that he saw what he saw. 


"Can't sleep?"

"I think I- think I saw something."

Shane groans as he rolls over to face Ryan: "And now you're gonna keep me up all night?"

"Way to be a dick about it! I-I just can't be alone- and-"

Something squeaks and Ryan screams.

"Jeesus. It's just this old house settling in. Look, I need to get some sleep, about you come into my sleeping bag?"

"What? Dude. Th-there's not enough-"

A crack of thunder.

Ryan scrambles out of his sleeping bag and into Shane's. Logic be damned. All he knows is the larger man is never afraid of anything. Maybe if he's closer to him, some of that bravery will rub off on him. It's only when he's settled down inside the beanie bag that he realizes what a mistake this was. They're chest to fucking chest. If he shifts any of his limbs, he'll end up on top of Shane.

He flushes and -if this keeps up- he'll have more pressing problems than ghosts.

Shane's voice rumbles near his ear: "Better?"

"Ah! Y-yeah. I don't think I'm that scared anymore," Ryan squeaks, and it's true. He can't think about anything except for the electrifying places where Shane's fingers graze over his skin. Ryan's toes curl in his socks, and, fuck, his cock twitches. God, his whole body is on fire, and it's embarrassing how aroused he is. 

"Good. Now go the fuck to sleep. Unless you need anything else? Back rub? Bed time story?"

"Fuck off," Ryan laughs with his signature wheeze. 

Shane's back a sleep in a minute, and his big hands rest on the small of Ryan's back. Ryan feels so small All of his fear is gone and replaced with a warm feeling that he's not sure he wants to name. His whole body is heating up with Shane pressed up so close to him. Shane makes a content noise in his sleep as Ryan snuggles even closer to him, and Ryan's cock is wide awake. It's pushing up against his jeans, and he wills this unwanted erection to go away. Think of something scary- oh, nononono. Don't do that.

So now Ryan is stuck between Shane and ghosts. What's worse? Being scared shitless or being aroused senseless?

It's a problem that he can't solve, so he just squeezes his eyes shut and snuggles his head into Shane's neck. Maybe it's wrong, but it feels so fucking good to be held like this when he's scared. Another clap of thunder and Ryan accidentally jerks, rubbing himself up into Shane's big thigh. Ah, he helplessly whimpers at the electric shock of pushing up into his best friend. This is morally fucked, but Ryan doesn't want to move away. 

He does the only thing that will ease his squirming morality and shakes Shane awake.

"Shane," Ryan whines like a petulant little boy. "Shannne. Wake up."

"Wha'? Whatyaneed, Ryan? See another ghost?"

"No, I- I have a bigger problem," he admits, voice small and breathless. He arches his hips up and Shane goes still against him as he recognizes Ryan's hard on. 

Shane smirks down at him: "Oh, well, that seems like a little problem."

Ryan hates that Shane's condescension only makes his cock throb harder.

"S-shut up. What should I do?"

"You're a grown boy, Ryan. I think you know what to do when you get excited..unless you're nervous the ghosts are watching you," Shane taunts, and as he speaks, he slowly rubs his big hands up and down Ryan's back. Ryan's eyes flutter at the soothing tempo of Shane's hands. They're so big and warm, and they do feel so comforting. He's embarrassed to be in this position with another grown man but somehow -since it's Shane- it feels all right. 

"But- but I don't want to get up."

"So? Do it here," Shane says, and it sounds oddly like an order. The authoritative tone makes Ryan's hips helplessly rut up. Arousal twists in his gut as he realizes what he's going to have to do. Shane's still rubbing his back, like he's soothing a scared animal, and, fuck, if that doesn't feel so good. Ryan makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat as he reaches down to unzip himself. Then he stops.

"I'll make a mess. And what'll that look like on camera tomorrow?"

Shane sighs, annoyed: "Stop being a little baby about this, just...just rock your hips one or two times and you'll be done."

The way that Shane says it -like he says everything- is so matter of fact that Ryan feels stupid for being freaked out. The animalistic side of his brain purrs happily as Ryan allows his hips to start slowly rocking back and forth. The sinful friction of his jeans against Shane's hard knee is everything. Ryan's mind starts to go hazy as Shane's big fingers run soothing circles on his back. Shane's lips are pressed right to his ear, so when his deep voice rumbles, it's almost louder than the thunder. 

"That's it. Come on. Give the ghosties a good show, huh? That's a good boy," Shane whispers, and Ryan gasps. The good boy is a shot of arousal straight between his legs. His leaking cock happily throbs at the condescending tone, and it's so fucked up that he's getting off on the sound of his best friend's voice. Ryan's not sure if Shane mean't to sound like he's talking down to him or if that's just the way his voice is.

"T-this is weird," Ryan acknowledges with an uneasy laugh as he stills his hips. He clenches his thighs together as his denied orgasm tightens inside him. Blue balls are a bitch.

Shane snorts, "Not weirder than half the shit we do. But if you want to get up and finish yourself, feel free. I just want to go the fuck back to sleep, and I can't do that with you whining in my ear. Come on, Ryan. Either roll over and go to sleep or finish it, okay?"

"Okay, b-but don't say any more weird stuff while I do-do it," he stammers, cheeks flushed a deep red. 

He's mortified that he got himself into this situation. He should have just let Shane go to sleep and tried to sleep off the erection. Why did he do this to himself? It's almost like he wanted this to happen which is...okay, maybe this is what he wanted. It's nothing that Ryan would ever admit to, but he knows it's true. The shame colors his skin, and, at the very least, he's not afraid anymore.

"Fine. Just be quick," Shane agrees but continues to rub his back.

Ryan should tell him to cut that out too, but the motion is...nice. Plus, it'll make him cum quicker. He takes a preparatory breath and then hides his face deep into Shane's neck. He doesn't want to see Shane's smirk, although he can hear in his tone that it's still there.

This was a bad idea; now Ryan can feel Shane's heartbeat against his. The rhythmical rubbing of Shane's hand on his back.

Ryan rocks his hips against Shane...once...twice...don'tthinkaboutit...once...twice...don'tthinkaboutit...

"Come on," Shane encourages him. "That's it." 

"G-god, I said to- to shut up," he sputters and shudders as he rides the wave of his orgasm against Shane's knee. As he cums, he can hear Shane softly snickering, and, fuck, if that doesn't make him orgasm harder. He's still got all his clothes on, so the feeling of his cum dribbling down his boxers makes him cringe. 


"It's gross," he sniffs. 

"Least now we can sleep."

Shane kisses his forehead, and Ryan can almost hear the good boy from earlier repeating in his head. It's like the sound is on loop, and he hates how much he loves the nickname. Is it a nickname, though? Or is that something you say to a dog? Even weirder, Shane isn't aroused. It makes Ryan annoyed at himself for having such a strong reaction when Shane -as always- is unaffected. But what is he supposed to say? Was that good for you? Fuck, he's a moron but not even he is that stupid. 

He falls asleep to Shane rubbing his back.

He has no dreams.


When he wakes up, the events of last night hit him like a storm. He's still curled up in Shane's arms, and, fuck, he doesn't want to go anywhere. The world is too bright and Shane's arms are still so warm and protective. He forces himself to stretch away the tension of last night. He yawns and cringes as he looks down at his mused jeans. He turns on his phone and checks his reflection; yeah, he looks well fucked. His hair's all messed up and his cheeks are still red.

"Sleep well?" Shane asks with only a hint of a smirk.

Ryan shrugs, and he flushes darker.

He's thankful when their cameraman arrives. 

The cameras can't see it, but, underneath his clothes, Ryan's covered with dried cum and wet regret. 

"You okay? You seem kind of off?" Shane asks later that day as they get into their camera man's car. They're headed over to a new location. 

"Yeah just...about last night-"

"Don't worry about it," Shane dismisses like it was a totally normal thing that happened between them. How is he so...put together?

"Don't? Shouldn't about it?"

"If you want."

Shane's nonchalance is the weirdest form of gas lighting. On one hand, Ryan would be happy to suppress this humiliating memory and never talk about it again. On the other hand...

"We should talk," Ryan insists half an hour later.

"Ok. Does this change anything?"

"Uh, well- I don't know. You're my friend, right?"

"Right," Shane blinks like the emotionally constipated idiot he is. Ryan wants to shake him and find out what is going through his mind in this moment. Their camera man is driving, so Ryan doesn't want to say too much. 

He settles into an uncomfortable silence. Maybe it's just on his end; Shane seems perfectly fine. 


 It happens again.

Maybe because he kind of wanted it to happen. Ryan's got a condom, a tube of lube, and a bit of hope mixed with fear in his back pocket as they enter the haunted asylum. He purposefully brushes his hand against Shane, trying to rile him up. All he earns is a snicker when he grabs Shane's hand out of "fear." Ryan's annoyed and confused by Shane's non-reaction to any of his advances. If Shane isn't attracted to him even a little...why did he let Ryan get off against him? It makes no fucking sense.

So Ryan's left confused and scared as he spreads his sleeping bag on the tiles. They're doing the fucking insane thing of sleeping over. Why? For Youtube, Ryan supposes, but he hates it. The pipes creek. A bat or a rat moves past him. Fuck.

"Shane," he says, half hoping the other boy is already awake.


"Look," Ryan bits his lip and hates himself for asking this. "Can I- can I come in your beanie bag?"

There's a pause where Ryan holds his breath, sure he's ruined everything.

"Yeah, sure. Just don't squirm around as much as last time."

Ryan squeezes into Shane's sleeping bag and snaps, "I wasn't squirming, you idiot, I was hard! I rode your knee! I came on you! You're acting like it was nothing."

"Well, try not to do that again, so I can sleep," Shane says, and, wow, this guy is just something else. How is he just so casual about this whole thing? Also, why is he not reacting to sex the way a normal, red-blooded dude would? Like, sure, maybe he's just super open minded and not grossed out by "gay" shit, but this...this on a whole n'other level.

Ryan, as pissed as he is, can't help his reaction. No sooner does he snuggle up to Shane than his body heats up. He can feel his face flush as he wills his cock not to get aroused. Come on! He tries to slow his breathing, but, as Shane falls asleep, his hands wrap around Ryan's waist. Being held in the same position that he came in last time is too much. His cock throbs as Shane -unconsciously?- rubs Ryan's lower back. 

"I'm," Ryan swallows and then admits. "I'm attracted to you, okay?"

Shane yawns, "Wha'z that?"

"Shane! I'm- I'm attracted to you. I like you. I- I want to mess around with you, okay?"


Ryan feels even worse than rejected. He feels like someone's just slapped him across the face, hard. 


"Okay? Just okay?" Ryan repeats and he can feel his eyes stinging. "Wow, way to make a dude who's putting it out there feel like fucking trash. I mean if you're not, like, attracted to me or whatever, we could just get off together. What is it? Are you repulsed by men? Or...or just by me? I'll shut up if this is making you feel weird, I just thought-" 

"Dude, chill. I'm not attracted to any gender," Shane laughs like it's the most obvious thing in the fucking world. 

"You're...?" Ryan starts but can't find the right word.


"So you hate sex?"

"I don't hate it. I'm just not hyper-fixated on it. It's like....imagine there's food in the fridge, right?"

Ryan groans: "I can already tell this is going to be an offensive analogy." 

"Well, some people go for sausage. Some people go for fish-"

"This really isn't necessary. You can just say 'guys' and 'girls.'"

"And some people go for both. Me? I'm like, nah, fuck the fridge. Not hungry."

"'s not me. It's you?"

Shane laughs, "Yeah, it's me. I guess I should have told you earlier, but I didn't think it was a big deal."

"So you're not into...doing shit with me?"

"What? No I was super into it. You already know that's my favorite thing in the world- humiliating you. This is just a different way to do it. Seeing you scared cause of ghosts gives me just about the same thrill."

Ryan, who needs to jack off to porn at least three times a week, has so many questions.

"Do you get aroused?"

"When I stimulate myself, yeah. I classify myself as a flexible asexual. I'm down to fuck if you're down, you know? But if you're not, we don't have to. I don't know- I'm perfectly happy with anything that makes you happy." 

"Anything?" Ryan asks, voice quivering with excitement. 

"I mean...we don't have lube or condoms or-"

Ryan pulls out the little tube of lube, and he flushes as Shane quirks his eyebrow: "Looks like someone's prepared to get fucked by a ghostie."

"Shut up. I wanted you know," Ryan says and squirms. It's annoying how nonchalant Shane is about sex when it makes him so squeamish. Still, Shane pops off the cap of the lube like he's done it a thousand times before. The sound, along with the hand tugging on his belt, makes Ryan's cock throb again. He presses a grateful kiss to Shane's lips. 

"So you want me to put my fingers into you?"

"Yes! Jesus, you just managed to make sex sound as sexy as a prostate exam," Ryan complains as Shane's lubricated fingers slip between his legs. His cock jumps as those long, cold fingers push past to get to his hole. He automatically tightens when Shane's wet finger presses up against him.

"I've done this before," Shane confirms as he pulls down Ryan's underwear all the way. "So just relax -okay?- are you capable of relaxing?"

Ryan lets out a small breath and nods. He tucks his head into Shane's shoulder and relaxes his muscles. His breath hitches as Shane's long finger pushes up into him. It's so thick and nice inside of him. He happily whimpers as Shane expertly workds the length of his hard finger inside of Ryan. 

"That's it. That's my boy," Shane starts, his voice a low, throbbing tenor against Ryan's sensitive ears. He spreads his legs wider apart in response to the soothing tenor. Everything about Shane is just warm and perfect and comforting. Ryan loves this idiot so fucking much that it hurts. He loves him so much that he doesn't care that Shane's only semi while he's spread open and leaking cum.

"I love this," Ryan gasps. "D-do you?"

"I love seeing you like this," Shane says slowly as he adds a second finger. "Makes me feel like I'm taking care of you. You know how sometimes when your best friend is into something, you-"

"Oh god, can we n-not have an analogy when you're fucking me with your f-fingers?" 

"But get so flushed and pretty when you're mad at me."

Ryan accepts it as a compliment because it might be the best Shane's capable of giving him. And also -wow!- his fingers are so perfect at reaching that little spot that makes his toes curl up. It only takes a minute before Ryan is squirming and sputtering. The dead floor under them creaks, and, sure, it's not the most comfortable way to get fingered, but Ryan will take whatever he can get.

Love makes people dumb.

And Shane's fucking him stupid right now with those goddamned fingers. They're curving up into him and touching him just right. Ryan's leaking precum, and it's not going to take much more before he- he-he-

"All over me!" Shane groans. "God, you were right when you said you're messy."

"Sorry," Ryan groans as he fails to wipe his cum off Shane's shirt.

"It's a good thing I like you," Shane says and kisses him.

"I like you too, you big idiot."