He isn't even doing anything. He's sat at his desk, right next to him, as he always is, just looking through search engines and trying to find the next greatest mystery of all time. With all of those cliches, you read about how the light catches their hair, how the sound of their laugh across the office just lit up the narrator's soul, but Ryan is just sitting there . He’s wearing his glasses and beanie combo and generally looking like one step up from a street rat with his patchy scruff, but he’s smiling. He’s smiling to himself and the light is catching his eyes , and he should look like a maniac by any accounts, looking at true crime murder mysteries and grinning, but he just looks pretty .
Oh shit, Shane says to himself, catching himself staring and looking back to his own screen in the hope that Ryan (or anyone else in this nosy ass office) wouldn’t notice.When he chances looking back up, because he’s not a schoolboy with a crush and frankly this is dumb as hell, Ryan is looking at him, still smiling in his slight way, with the crow’s feet and the soft eyes and the expression that could be described as fondness, and wow, Shane, chill. They’re making eye contact for a solid two seconds before they both look away at once, going back to their individual work. Ryan is still smiling though, so hope comes from the awkwardness, rather than Shane just feeling awkward.
“Food?” Ryan asks some time later, enough time that Shane has relaxed into his chair and continued research for Ruining History rather than lingering on whatever just happened. Shane nods and stands, setting his headphones back on his desk and setting his computer to standby out of habit. When he turns back to Ryan, it looks like Ryan was staring at… his ass ? He was bending over, but not by much, just kind of… arching his back. Ryan was totally staring at his ass. Shane grins and starts walking out of their office, leading Ryan to scramble behind even though he was the one to suggest leaving in the first place. The hope squashes itself out by the time Ryan’s footsteps sound heavy behind him.
“So where are we going for food?” Shane asks, levying out his emotions and stopping at the top of the stairs for Ryan to be even with him. Ryan takes the stairs first, Shane following closely behind, another habit of his that he doesn’t really want to kick. Ryan is his best friend, and it doesn’t matter if he just realised that he likes the way Ryan looks when he smiles, and the sound of Ryan’s voice, and when Ryan notices something new and delights in learning it - it doesn’t matter. Ryan is his best friend and nothing matters more than that, certainly not something little and insignificant like Shane’s heart. But Ryan was looking at his ass. Trick of the mind, possibly. Insignificant, definitely.
“Somewhere convenient. Tacos?” Ryan suggests once they reach the bottom of the stairs, standing for a moment to let Shane get into even steps with him. Shane nods and they reach the door with silence, not the awkward kind, but the best friend kind that Shane feels warm in. There’s fluttering in his stomach when their hands accidentally touch, but that’s not butterflies, because this isn’t something that means anything. Ryan means more to him as his best friend than he ever could as anything else. They’re best as friends, partially because this is definitely one-sided, but mostly because it’s just them. They’d never work. They would fight too much and drive eachother crazy.
“Okay so,” Shane starts, leading to a rant starting question, “Paddington 2. Give me the full review.” He grins when that sets Ryan off like a shot, putting him in the full-on lecture mode he gets on cases, but about a movie that’s meant to be for children. Shane loves the franchise just as much, so he can’t and won’t pass any judgement, but he loves how passionate Ryan gets about literally everything, how anything from ghosts to popcorn to Paddington could make him into a college professor of opinion. Shane catches his own soft smile just about the time Ryan does, stopping them in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ryan asks, stopping himself mid-stream and raising an eyebrow while looking up at Shane. The realisation that he wants to kiss Ryan bowls him over with desire, with wanting and with the feeling that he may just be sick. Ryan looks expectant and he honestly doesn’t know what to say.
“Um,” he replies eloquently, still caught up in looking down at Ryan’s growing smile, the crow’s feet around his eyes and the light behind them. He looks so pretty and then he’s leaning up and then Ryan is too close to look at and then -
Shane is being kissed. His eyes close automatically and there are hands on his hips and a smile pressed against his lips and he feels like he’s flying, like he’s in a world that he’s already conquered. His own hands are on Ryan’s face and neck before he really realises they’re moving at all, holding the other man steadily against him with a grin that he doesn’t know how to temper. They’re barely kissing, more just smiling while their lips touch and Shane pulls away, not keeping the affection off of his face this time when he opens his eyes. Ryan is looking up at him, shit eating grin in full effect as he looks like the caught that caught the canary, self satisfaction completely taking him over.
“You’re such a dork,” Ryan says, voice fond, and then the moment is over. He grabs Shane’s hand and drags him to get tacos. They’re walking slower than Shane normally would, almost like they’re tourists looking around down the avenue and getting a feel for the city all over again. Their fingers are laced, and Shane almost feels like he is seeing the area all over again; Ryan Bergara has knocked him completely on his ass all over again, and he doesn’t know how to come back from it.
Shane is completely adrift in the fact that he wouldn’t have it any other way.