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Horror and Chill, Baby

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Movie Night 1: The Conjuring

Ryan tries to straighten his frizzy hair in the microwave reflection, but it sticks back up. He’s a mess, and they haven’t even started. Ryan takes a deep, calming breath as the kernels pop-pop and the smell of butter fills their room. Calm down. You can do this, Ryan, don’t be a little b-

“Boo!”

Ah!” Ryan jumps and almost trips over his over-sized pajama bottoms. Wait, are these Shane’s pajamas? Shane laughs -a deep, throaty sound- as he grabs Ryan’s arm with a soft ‘whoa, steady there.’

Ryan snatches his arm away and crosses it over his chest: “Why did I agree to this again?”

“I distinctly recall it being your idea. Something about how you couldn’t believe I never get scared and that you bet I couldn’t keep a straight face while watching a horror movie. This was before you barfed on my shoes, by the way.”

“I- was drunk! Y-you can’t hold my vomit or word vomit against me.”

“You know what they say,” Shane says and quirks his eyebrows. “Drunk words are sober ideas. Oh, and if you don’t watch this, I’ll demand compensation.”

Ryan rolls his eyes as the microwave beeps: “For what?! The barf came out of your shoes.”

“This is blackmail, Ryan, not a debate. Come on, put on your big boy panties and meet me in the lounge. Oh....nice pants by the way.”

Before he can think of a good retort, Shane’s gone. Ryan looks down at his pajama bottoms again. They’re definitely Shane’s. To be fair, he does both their laundry together, and they’re the same blue color, so it’s not like he was trying to steal them on purpose or anything. Ryan flushes as he kicks them off and finds his own smaller pair.

He takes his time putting the popcorn into a bowl and attempting to smooth his hair down. It sticks back up.

Stop stalling, his inner Shane chides. He’s only known this dude for two months, and Ryan’s hearing his voice all the time, seeing him everywhere. Ryan realizes they’re the obnoxious kind of roommates, the ones who live out of each other's pockets but also...also he kinda loves it. Shane’s cool in a dorky way that Ryan could never pull off, so if he wants to spend all his time with the dude, it’s no big deal, right?

“COME ON,” real life Shane calls.

Ryan grabs his over-sized fleece blanket and drags it to the dark lounge. Shane smirks at the sight of him.

“Brought your blankie for some horror and chill?”

“Blanket! How many times do I need to tell you it’s a blanket? Just because I’ve had it since I was a kid doesn’t make it a ‘blankie,’ jesus.”

“Whatever makes you happy, baby.”

“I need a new roommate,” Ryan says with a wheezy laugh, and he hates that the snide baby made his toes curl.

When he sits, he purposefully sets the popcorn bowl between them. They’ve been getting a little too close lately. Before the vomit incident at the party, Ryan’s pretty sure he made out with Shane’s neck. Or at least nuzzled it or whatever. They haven’t talked about it. Still, he can feel the electric charge in the air between them. His eyes trace the curve of Shane’s neck. Unlike Shane’s scruffy, bearded face, it’s smooth; it’d look better with a couple marks though. Ryan shivers and looks away.

“Okay?”

“It’s cold,” Ryan huffs and pulls his blanket higher.

“Mhhm,” Shane hums. “Sure you’re not already scared?”

“Turn the movie on before I find our RA and demand a room change.”

“Okay, okay. But if you’re scared, I can always hold your hand,” Shane teases. Ryan throws popcorn at him.

As it plays, Ryan feels the room getting colder and colder. He hugs his blankie- blanket! He hugs his blanket, but it’s thinner than he remembered.

Here’s a confession; Ryan’s an eighteen-year-old boy who’s never finished a damn horror movie. He’s only ever dared to watch one during the day and then...stopped. He once went to a horror movie with a girl in high school but then made up a bullshit reason to leave. Pathetic.

Ryan really doesn’t want Shane -cool, nonchalant Shane- to think that he’s a baby, but- but he also is a baby when it comes to horror movies. He inches closer to Shane. Ryan’s sure Shane notices when their thighs touch, but he doesn’t say anything, not even a goading ‘scaredy-cat.’

Then the ghost clapping starts and nope! Fuck, no!

He doesn’t even realize that he’s buried his face into the curve of Shane’s neck until he feels the deep vibrations of his laughter. 

“Aw, come on, Ryan- it’s not real. You can’t really be this scared?”

“Y-y-you’re a fucking demon!” He sputters, face red. “How does this not bother you at all?”

“It’s not real,” Shane simply repeats as he wraps his hand around Ryan’s shoulder. He pushes Shane’s hand off and squirms away.

“Stop. I don’t need to cuddle.”

“Okay,” Shane says like he doesn’t believe him.

Sure enough, one jump scare later he’s back in the same position, hiding his face in Shane’s chest.

“Stop laughing at me,” he sniffles as tears sting the corners of his eyes.

“Are you crying?” Shane asks, taken aback. Ryan flushes harder as he's forced to wipe the wetness of his cheeks against Shane's chest. His heart is so pounding, and he's short of breath. Shane's hand is resting on his shoulder like he's not sure where or how to touch Ryan. God, this is so fucking embarrassing. 

“I-I said don’t laugh!”

“You’re just so cute like this, dude. It’s like you’ve never watched a horror movie.”

I haven’t.

Shane reads into his silence because he pauses the movie and reassures him, “We don’t have to finish if you don’t want-”

“No! We were just getting to the good part.”

The only thing more humiliating than cuddling up to Shane like this is stopping. Besides, the movie’s actually got a good plot. Ryan’s vaguely aware that Shane’s hand is still wrapped around his shoulder, and, yeah, this isn’t the straightest thing he’s ever done, but it’s also not the gayest. Kissing up on Shane’s neck (while drunk!) is admittedly gayer. 

Sexual crisis aside, Ryan’s low key loving the way that Shane’s thumb has started to rhythmically stroke the back of his neck like he's a kitten. His toes curl at the soft touch. Shane’s just so big and warm, and it makes Ryan feel so small and protected like there’s nothing in the world to worry about. As Shane continues to rub the nape of his neck, Ryan relaxes into him and starts to enjoy the movie. 

"I can’t believe people in a horror movie are actually calling a priest. Isn’t that the exact opposite of what they usually do?”

“That’s why it’s one of my favorite movies,” Shane admits, and his voice is a deep rumble in Ryan’s ear. Ryan’s hyper-aware of how close they’re pressed up against each other. His cock twitches in his pajamas, and he tightens his thighs together, grateful for the blanket covering his lap. Ryan has to concentrate on the movie now or he might just get too excited. Somewhere down the line the wiring for 'fear' and 'arousal' have crossed, and Ryan flexes his toes as his cock stirs. Don't get hard. Don't get hard. Shane’s thumb, which is rubbing circles into the nape of his neck, makes it hard. Fuck.

Move away if you don’t like it, his inner Shane snorts. That’s the problem; Ryan loves it. He’s always had a thing for when girls kissed up on his neck, but those were girls and this is...Shane. But, fuck, if that motion doesn’t feel nice...Shane’s hands are so nice and big and certain. They’d certainly feel good wrapped around his cock. Unlike a girl’s delicate fingers, they’d be big enough to hold all of him. Big enough to make him feel small and safe and delicate and- 

“You okay?”

“A-ah, yeah, fine! I'm fine."

“Your breathing’s a little short.”

“Just scared,” Ryan blurts because that’s less embarrassing than the truth. The truth is that his cock is half hard from the warmth of Shane’s body and this new feeling of being small. Ryan’s never had a size kink before, but it’s just- just Shane! Shane’s been making him want things he's never wanted before. When he looks up at Shane, it takes his breath away. The taller boy (when he's not being an asshole) has such a handsome face that Ryan wants to do something stupid like kiss him or maybe slap him for being so horribly attractive. 

They finish the movie with some snarky Shane commentary and no more neck stroking. When Shane shifts away, Ryan's more disappointed than relieved.

“Okay. Well-” Ryan starts and then stops, clearing his throat. “That was, uh, really scary, and you weren’t scared, so I guess you win our bet or whatever. Are we done?”

“Yeah, we're done,” Shane says, but he’s looking at Ryan like they’re not. His eyes are dark, and it takes a moment for Ryan to realize they’re dilated. Is he going to...? Ryan bites his lip, unsure if he should lean in or...?

The moment is an awkward, unfinished thought.

“I’m gonna go-”

“Yeah, I’ll also go,” Shane says as he gets up and accidentally spills the rest of the popcorn. Ryan’s down on the floor picking up the pieces, and, when he looks up, Shane’s still standing there just....just fucking looking down at him.

“You gonna help?”

“Right.”

Ryan takes a long, hot shower after that. He’s too wound up to go to bed. As the steam hits his skin, he sighs in relief; all that sexual repression needs some relief. 

When he wraps a hand around himself, Ryan starts with the usual blank female face. She’s his generic fantasy girl, whose warm breasts he imagines pushing up into, fucking nice and slow. But, as he drags his fingers down his sensitive cock, she quickly melts away into the warmth of Shane’s arms. Oh, fuck, Ryan speeds up his pace as he remembers how Shane held him and laughed at him and- and- how would those fingers feel like wrapped around him? They were so big they'd fit all the way around him or maybe...maybe all the way inside him. 

Wait. What?

He stops, disgusted by the arousal that tightens in his stomach, and tries to change to a different fantasy. A cute brunette down on her knees, opening up her lips and- and then it shifts to Ryan down on his knees, looking up at Shane.

His cock jumps in his hand, and he moans as he squeezes down around himself. Hard.

Ryan can’t stop himself this time or try and change it because this feels too good. Now Shane’s holding him down on his knees. His hands on the back of Ryan’s neck. Maybe squeezing down a little. Choking him. Oh....

Fuck,” Ryan mutters to himself as he presses his heated face to the cold tiles and cums.

He just got off to the thought of his roommate holding him down, and, judging by the warmth coiling in his stomach, this won’t be the last.

-------------------------

Movie Night 2: The Conjuring 2

It’s not a mistake this time. Ryan’s doing their laundry (yes, both of theirs because Shane will just let it pile up and Ryan can’t stand the mess) when he pulls out Shane’s grey sweatshirt. It’s got Buzzfeed printed in bright red letters, and Ryan would tease Shane for having YouTube merch, but it’s also the softest sweatshirt ever. He places the warm fabric against his cheek. It smells like his laundry detergent. Mhm.

So maybe Ryan slips it over his head, and if it’s a little too big, that isn’t any reason to flush. He gets distracted folding and ironing and sorting, and before he knows it, he’s forgotten all about putting it on.

Boo.”

“Why is boo our new greeting? Why can’t we just say ‘hey’ like normal people?”

Silence.

Ryan looks up from organizing Shane’s jeans to see Shane frozen by the door. He looks good from this angle, impossibly tall.

“Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?"

“You’re wearing my sweatshirt, aren’t you?”

Shitshitshitshit.

“Uh, y-yeah. Just threw it on when I was cleaning...and...yeah, that’s all,” Ryan stutters as he looks down. It’s so big that it covers up his black boxers. When he looks back up, the air is charged. Shane’s still looking down at him like he’s trying to solve a hard physics problem in his head. Ryan realizes how it must look-- he’s folding laundry down on his knees, after all, in Shane’s sweatshirt. It’s not like that, of course, but Ryan’s not too sure he wouldn’t like it to be like that.

The silence has stretched between them for so long that Ryan’s forced to crack a joke: “Look the price of laundry is me stealing your shit sometimes, okay? Don’t make it weird.”

Shane just shakes his head, and and the question’s still in his eyes when he asks, “Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”

This time there’s no “blackmail” hanging over his head. There’s nothing except a tingling on the back of his neck, and the curl of his naked toes on the cold tiles. He doesn’t say anything as he puts away Shane’s last pair of jeans. Ryan swallows instead and shrugs. The 'yeah' is stuck in the back of his throat as arousal lazily courses through him. He can feel Shane's eyes on the back of his neck -like some kind of predator- watching him as he pulls himself onto his bed. His underwear rides a bit too high, and he can feel it clinging against his cock. Ryan's hyper aware of every breath that goes through him as he clears his throat.

“Yeah, sure,” Ryan mumbles to his bed. It's not like him to be shy, but it's also not like him to be in lust with a boy, so he'll give himself a pass. He still hasn’t taken off the sweatshirt. (It’s soft, okay?)

So with a simple ‘yeah, sure’ he’s damned himself to an evening of “horror and chill.” Who knew it would be so appropriately named?

When Ryan sits down right next to Shane, so their thighs are pressed together, Shane doesn’t react. The scratch of Shane’s jeans is jarring against his bare skin.

He pulls his blanket up and tries not to notice how he’s pulled it up over Shane’s lap as well. If anyone on their floor walked in, Ryan realizes it’d look really gay. Like dicks out gay. Whatever. Maybe he’s just really secure in his masculinity. Sure, inner-Shane taunts, nothing more manly than stealing my sweatshirt and doing all my laundry like the good, little girlfriend you’ve become.

Ryan flushes. Jesus, his inner-Shane’s way more of a dick than the real one. Also, a lot more sexual.

“I have to warn you that this one has a shittier plot, but it’s also scarier. The nun scene? Even I jumped a little.”

“So...I’m gonna pee my self?”

“I bet,” Shane teases, “It’s probably not the first time your blankies seen you do that.”

Blanket! You never get it right!” Ryan groans, and the teasing is making his head spin. He’ll never admit how much he loves it when Shane gives him shit.

Shane’s right about one thing; barely even five minutes in, Ryan’s squirming. When the aforementioned nun-scene happens, he wraps his shaking hands around Shane’s neck, and Shane- wow, Shane places his hand right over the small of Ryan’s back. When Ryan shivers this time, it has a lot more to do with the way that Shane’s big hand is splayed over his backside than the horror.

“Already scared?” Shane whispers, and his lips are inches away from Ryan’s ear. That’s some ASMR shit. His toes curl as he shifts in discomfort. It feels like they’re both testing boundaries tonight, trying to figure out how deep this dynamic goes, how far they can push each other.

“Y-you’re right,” Ryan squeaks. “Th-this one’s scarier.”

“I’m always right.”

Ryan’s not in the mood to fight Shane on that point. He’s doing everything he can to stop himself from getting aroused, but it’s hard (ha!) with how close he’s pressed up to Shane. He’s practically in the other boy’s lap. Ryan breath hitches as Shane starts to soothingly rub his back in nice, slow circles. Oh god, game over.

His cock helplessly twitches as Shane continues to rub his back and asks, “You know what this looks like if someone were to walk in right?”

“Y-yeah, be weird” Ryan breathes, and he can’t really form coherent thoughts let alone full sentences.

His toes curl under him as he presses his cheek to Shane’s chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart. How can Shane be so calm during a horror movie when Ryan's such a mess?

“I’m surprised you’re not crying yet,” Shane continues, and his voice is a deep, vibrating sound. It penetrates Ryan’s ear and sends another helpless shiver down his spine. His breathing becomes more labored. It’s a slow point in the movie (the ghost grandpa is just dicking around with the remote) and Ryan can’t pay attention, not really. He’s distracted by the way Shane’s rubbing his back like- like he owns him.  His cock throbs without his permission, pressing up against his boxers. His guilt is hidden underneath a blanket, but Ryan's sure it must show on his red cheeks and glazed eyes. God, this is so fucking embarrassing.

“Yo-you want me to cry, you sadistic fuck?"

“I didn’t say that. It’s just you look so cute..." Shane trails off, and the vibrating tenor makes Ryan want to whimper. Ryan's cock has never gotten so hard so fast. It's straining up against his soft boxers, and he can feel the precum smearing against the fabric. Tears are gathering up in the corners of his eyes but only because it feels so fucking good, and it's all Shane's fault for touching him like he's precious. When Ryan looks up at Shane's eyes, he forgets how to breath. Those dark, dilated pupils are boring right into him as if they can see right under his clothes, as if they can see how he's-

“Hard. I-I’m hard,” Ryan blurts out without any context or consideration. Sober word vomit, if you will. Shane stiffens against him, and, fuck, now Ryan’s messed it all up and made it weird.

“Me too,” Shane laughs and then Ryan's laughing because -fuck!- this is ridiculous.

"So...do you want me to go or...?"

Shane answers by leaning down and kissing him. Ryan’s never kissed a boy, and it feels nothing like a girl; while girls are soft curves, Shane’s hard angles and scruffy beard. The new sensation makes Ryan’s lips tingle. Nobody's watching the movie. It’s just playing in the background as they make out. Ryan likes the soft smack of their lips together; likes the way Shane cups his face like he’s small and precious; likes the way he's sure that he could do this forever.

“How’d you know?” Ryan gasps when he finally pulls away. He's flushed and eager and squirming under the combined warmth of the blanket and Shane.

Shane rolls his eyes: “Besides the fact you've been making eyes at me for weeks? Or that you were chilling in nothing but my boxers and undies? As a psychology major, you should know that's universal for ‘fuck me.' Plus you made out with me at the party, and I’ve just been waiting for the right moment-”

“Wait! We made out?!”

“Yeah, I figured you regretted it, and I didn’t want to make it weird-”

“I thought I just kissed your neck or whatever. Shit! You’ve really been taking your time, huh? Couldn’t have made your move last week?”

“Hey, you could have made a move too. Just because you’re smaller than me doesn’t mean you get to act like a girl,” Shane grumbles as he tugs on the front of Ryan’s sweater, pulling him onto his lap. The taunting smaller makes makes Ryan throb. His boxers are all wet and sticky, and he just needs release so badly. He just needs to cum. 

“Don't be a dick, Shane. We’re both the man in the relationship.”

“Better start acting like one then, princess,” Shane snarks and pulls him in by the string of his sweatshirt, so Ryan slides forward. The hard friction of Shane’s jeans rubs him just right, and their erections are pressed together. Oh, fuck. Even through the thick denim, the feeling is electric. Ah, Ryan squeezes his thighs down around Shane as they kiss. Behind them, a character in the movie screams, but Ryan’s too lost in the taste of Shane’s lips to care. He slowly rocks his soft undies against the hard denim of Shane’s lap. This is everything. Kissing him. Tasting him. Touching him. Shane’s hands are around his waist now, under the fabric of his hoodie. God, those hands are so nice and big.

Someone passes by the door, and they both freeze. Fuck. 

"We shouldn't- shouldn't be doing this- whatever this is-"

Shhh, that's it," Shane hums against his ear as his fingers possessively sink down right above the thickness of Ryan's ass.

His breath speeds up at the soothing tone that Shane's using with him like he's some kind of frightened animal. Ryan'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on. Side note, what about Shane doesn't turn him on? 

"I-I feel like my body's possessed," Ryan admits as he buries his face into Shane's neck. "God, I can't- I can't control myself when I'm with you. You make me feel like I'm losing it. Like- like I can't control what my body's doing."

"Mh, well you do like calling me a demon- makes sense I possessed you."

Ryan groans -partly annoyed but mostly just aroused- as he continues to rut against Shane. He feels so nice and small with Shane's hands possessively wrapped around his waist, and, as Shane starts to get closer to the edge, he takes control of Ryan's movements, using him like he was a fuck toy, pushing up into the softness of his ass. Ryan whimpers as he hides his red face in Shane's neck. This feeling -of being used? of being wanted?- is too much and not enough. Ryan holds his breath as Shane's breathing becomes more and more irregular.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, feel so good against me. Is this why you've been walking around in my clothes? Been needing me to take what was mine? Shhhh, that's it- s-shit, Ryan, that's it.  Good, you don't know what you do to me. Every time I see you, all I think about is bending you over...all I think about is holding you down and....fucking you so hard you can't breath. So hard you can't even whine my name."

Ryan comes wordlessly as his eyes roll back and his toes curl. He cums all over himself and his boxers. He cums with the blanket wrapped around him and Shane's fingers digging down into his hips. He cums hard and good and then his whole body relaxes.

The sweat drips down his skin as he feels Shane roll his hips one more time into him, and then they're both silent, panting.

"So...good movie?"

"I swear to god, Shane, let's enjoy the moment."

"Okay, okay...I'm just saying. If this is how you react to horror movies, we're going to watch them all by the end of the year."

-------------------------

Movie Night 3: Annabelle

Ryan's had a gay crisis, a good cry, a horrible freak out, a calm-the-fuck-down moment, another freak out, and then a depression nap. By the time he rolls out of bed at 8PM, Shane's back from class. Ryan rubs his eyes, and he's sure they're red and puffy. It's been the longest week, and he hasn't spoken to Shane after That Night. They haven't fought but they also haven't talked, not really.  

Shane's the first one to speak: "It's not a big deal if you're gay, Ryan. Lots of people are."

"Are you?"

"No, I'm bi," Shane says with a shrug from where he's lounging on his bed in a BUZZFEED sweater and boxers. Why is he reading his physics textbook like a bed time story? Weirdo. The bulge peeking out from under his sweatshirt is mouthwatering, and Ryan bites his lip as he averts his eyes. He hasn't cum since the last movie night because Shane's broken his dick. Every time he starts to touch himself, he's back in Shane's lap, hiding his face in the crook of Shane's neck. 

"Well...maybe I'm bi too?"

"Yeah? Cool."

Shane's so nonchalant it makes Ryan's jaw tighten. Can he be a fucking normal person for five minutes? It's driving Ryan crazy.

"Look just because you have your shit together doesn't mean everyone else has to," Ryan snaps and then covers his mouth. That came out meaner than he mean't. 

He's just angry and confused and eighteen. He's in college (supposedly the best years of one's life) and feeling fucking miserable. He's miserable and angry and -above all else- very, very horny. He's been on edge every time Shane brushed by him or looked at him like That, with that stupidly handsome face. He's bristled every time Shane's so much as leaned in past him to pick up a pencil or a paper. As he shifts on his bed, his blankets brush up against his crotch, and, fuck, if he doesn't want to just push up into them. It's not healthy for a boy his age to go this long without cumming. 

"It's ok- uh, are you ok?" Shane asks, and his voice is soft. His warm eyes are on the back of Ryan's neck. Ryan just buries his face deeper into his blankets because if he's going to have a tantrum he might as well commit to it. Shane's bed squeaks, and then there's soft footsteps, and, finally, a hand stroking Ryan's back. He immediately relaxes into Shane's touch. 

"Aw, come on, Ryan. You on your period?"

"Fuck off," he laughs as he pulls his head up. "I'm still not the girl in this relationship, as much as you want me to be."

"Relationship?" Shane asks, and Ryan hates how much he wants to kiss that smirk off Shane's face.

"Friendship. Fuck. You know what I mean."

Shane leans in and presses a chaste kiss to his forehead: "Friendship with relationship benefits? And when I call you a girl, you also should know what I mean. You always want me to take the lead. To make the first move. So if we're going to do this, I'm going to need you to unclench all that tight, tight masculinity and just breath. Can you do that for me?"

Ryan exhales as Shane rhythmically strokes his back while speaking. He can do anything when Shane commands him in that voice. It's such a soft command, but it's more powerful than if he had shouted. Somehow, the softness of Shane's voice is a loud signal to Ryan's body.

He reaches up to pull on Shane's hoody, trying to tug him onto the bed with him. If Shane wants Ryan to take the lead, he can do that. Shane pulls back a little, toying with him. Ryan bites his lip as he looks Shane up and down. 

"Yeah?" Shane asks, eyes half hooded, and tilts his head. Ryan just responds by tugging on the strings of Shane's hoodie, like an impatient child, waiting what he can't have. Shane leans down, so their lips are almost touching, and Ryan leans up, only for Shane to pull away at the last second. What kind of game is this? 

"You..." Ryan starts and then stops, trying to take more initiative, "You want to watch a movie?"

Shane laughs even as he rewards Ryan with a soft peck on the lips: "If that's code for 'fuck me,' then yes, Ryan. Yes, I would."

"I didn't say anything about fucking," he grumbles as Shane fetches his laptop and hops onto the bed with him.

"Yeah, but you look like you need it, baby. Com'er," Shane says as he sits cross cross and pats his lap. He's smirking again, and Ryan hates that the smug sight makes his stomach twist with arousal. He tries not to look as pathetic as he feels crawling up into Shane's lap. 

Ryan twists around to turn off the lights. Then he squirms as he settles into Shane's lap. All of the tension and worry from before melts away as Shane rests the warm laptop on both of their thighs. As Shane wraps his hands around Ryan's waist, Ryan feels warm and relaxed and -fuck- small.

He can't concentrate on the movie, not with the way that Shane's holding him like That. His cock lazily twitches as he squirms in Shane's grip. Shane holds him even tighter, and, wow, his grip is so tight that it takes Ryan's breath away. It makes him want to be held down and- and- and- 

"Stop," Ryan whimpers when he means continue. He says stop because he feels like he should say it, not because he means it. He feels like he's reading off some god awful script, but he's powerless to silence himself. Just like he's powerless to Shane's magnetic touch.

"Stop what? The movie?" Shane asks, voice a deep, throbbing tenor, as he cups his hands around the soft curve of Ryan's stomach. Oh, wow, no one's ever touched him like that. It makes his breath quicken, and he wiggles again, pressing himself back into Shane's soft cock; it hardens as he ruts back into it.

"No, stop- uh- you know?"

"No, I don't."

"Shane. The m-movie!"

Shane presses a kiss to Ryan's neck: "Stop that? You don't like when I kiss you?"

"No-no, I like it," Ryan huffs. "I'm just trying to watch."

ANNABELLE flashes on the screen as Shane pulls Ryan even closer to his chest and presses a kiss to the edge of his jaw. Ah. He can feel the sharpness of Shane's stubble. He can smell his cologne. There's just no way that Ryan can even pretend that he isn't turned on by the fact that Shane is a man, and he's holding Ryan like he's a boy. Oh yeah, and there's the cock that's getting harder and harder the more he squirms.

"I can multi task, Ryan. Shhh, just watch and I'll...."

"Shane!" Ryan whines as those big hands edge down to tug at the elastic band of his boxers. His whining is rewarded with another shush.

"Any louder, Ryan? Our neighbors are going to think you saw a ghost," Shane teases, and he can hear the condescending smirk in his voice. It shouldn't send a sharp spike of arousal down between his thighs, but it does. Shane's fingers curve around the bulge in his boxers. Shane's fingers are so big they wrap all the way around his cock. Ryan squeezes his thighs around the intrusive fingers.

"I'm tryna watch the horror movie, and you're making it hard-"

"Really hard," Shane snorts and squeezes down around him to prove his point. 

"S-s-shane, stop," Ryan groans even as he arches his back into Shane's touch. 

"You have a bad habit of saying one thing and meaning the other. If I didn't have you figured out, I'd be very confused. Now, let's try that again; what do you need, baby? You need me to take care of you?"

Ryan's coming to the end of his ability to say no, but he's also too ashamed to say yes. He twists his face around, so it's pressed into Shane's chest and nods his head ever so slightly. But Shane's a motherfucking sadist, so that's not good enough for him. Shane pulls his hand away and lightly rests it over Ryan's stomach. Then he falls silent, as if he's watching the movie. Ryan rolls his eyes. God, and he's the childish one?

"Shane," Ryan repeats.

"Shhh, tryna watch the movie. Oh, wow, look- a haunted doll. Spooky."

"Shane."

Ryan slams the laptop shut and then he takes Shane's hand and moves it back to where it was before. They're not watching the movie- why pretend? He earns himself a light squeeze and a warm kiss on the neck. Everything about Shane is nice and warm though. Warmer than his fleece blanket. 

When Shane wraps his hand around his clothed cock, Ryan shudders. He doesn't want to cum just from this because how pathetic would that make him look? Shane hasn't even put his hand down Ryan's boxers, but he's already coming apart, just from having the man's fingers lazily rubbing him through his boxers. Shane's determined to stretch this pleasurable torture on for as long as possible.

"A-any slower?" Ryan grits through clenched teeth. He's tearing up as Shane rubs his thumb in a slow sooth circle over the clothed head of Ryan's cock. He can feel the wet precum sticking to the fabric, and he's not sure if Shane's purposefully touching him like he's a girl. Ryan's rubbed enough girls through their panties to know that this is how it's done. The thought of Shane treating him like a girl only makes him throb harder because- because fuck knows why? Ryan can't control what he's turned on by.

“That's it, baby,” Shane soothes as he increases his pace. Now he's rubbing Ryan with the heel of his hand, and the sweet, steady friction has Ryan moaning like an idiot. 

"Stop teasing!"

"Aw, that's not how we ask for things we want," Shane taunts as he stops his movements all together and just limply curls his fingertips around Ryan's straining bulge. 

"You're a dick, you know that?"

"And you're afraid," Shane simpers. "You're afraid of ghosts and demons, but -more than anything- you're afraid of admitting that you want me."

"D-don't psychoanalyze me with your hand around my cock!"

"Tell me what you want, Ryan."

"I..." Ryan huffs and squeezes his eyes shut. "I want to....I..."

Shane's fingers loosen as he waits for Ryan to spit it out. The words are stuck in his throat and something between frustration and arousal tightens in the pit of Ryan's stomach as he fails to choke out the words. They're stuck somewhere in his throat, and he bites his lip and looks up at Shane through glazed, pleading eyes. Shane sighs and kisses him nice and deep. 

"Please?" Ryan manages to whisper, and it's not exactly what Shane wanted but it's good enough, for now.

“Good,” Shane praises him and -finally!- slips his hand into his boxers and wraps his big hand around Ryan's leaking cock and then- and then just holds his hand there, not moving it up or down. 

"Please," Ryan sighs, and it's easier this time. "Please touch me."

"Better."

Ryan has a feeling that sex with Shane is going to involve a lot of crying and squirming and begging, and he's not sure how he feels about that. All he knows right now is that he's desperate for release. Shane's finally done with teasing him because he's stroking him in sure steady movements. Ryan's never had a boy get him off, and he hates that this might be the best handjob he's ever gotten. Shane's fingers swivel around the head of his cock and then slightly squeeze him as they move down his length. It's so good that it's been less than a minute but he can feel himself tensing. 

Shane must feel it too because he whispers, "That's it, baby. Come for me."  

And it's the baby that pushes Ryan over the edge. He cums as Shane strokes him. He cums just as the tears that have built up finally spill down his heated cheeks, and then he's spilling cum all over himself. It's messy and humiliating but mostly just nice

Ryan thanks Shane by twisting around to straddle him and kiss him. Shane leans back, and, for a moment, lets Ryan take control. Just like last time, he ruts himself against Shane's lap, but this time he's sure of what he's doing. He wants to make Shane feel good. He wants this. The revelation hits him as he purposefully rubs his ass against Shane's cock. When Shane's big hands come to rest on Ryan's waist, he lets the larger boy take control because he likes it (not because he needs it).

Shane comes with Ryan's name on his lips, and they lie there in the dark, panting.

"So are you over your gay crisis?"

"Look, all I know is that we're doing horror and chill every week, at least. Oh, and I want your hoodie. Deal?"

"Deal."

When Shane's grip tightens around Ryan, he knows that he's made the right choice. He could get used to this.