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Shane Alexander Madej has two voices. The first, he uses for whimsical purposes- it’s cadence, pitch and volume perfect for everything from speaking to singing. A pleasant well-rounded voice for a pleasant well-rounded human being. The second, he uses in…special circumstances. His second voice brings people to heel. It doesn’t demand for attention, it commands it. Even for most of the general population, it’s easier to catch their notice and hold onto it when he uses his second voice. And if he were to be frank, he finds the very potential it carries to be utterly fascinating. But fascination never did run well with impulse, given the type of person he is. Therefore, he’s content to use it sparingly. Indulge, but never overtly so. He doesn’t remember exactly when he figured out that his second voice worked wonders on Ryan. Maybe it’d been a drunken night where they’d gotten on each other’s nerves in a moment of friendly bickering. Maybe it’d been on another occasion when Ryan got into yet another one of his workaholic moods. Or maybe, just maybe, the answer lies in the way Ryan acts.
Shane cannot pretend to be ignorant of how constantly his companion looks to him when making a point, as if to make sure he was being heard. As if he was asking for validation and assurance. He cannot pretend to be oblivious to how quickly Ryan moves to obey instruction when it’s given by him during their haunted excursions. He can’t pretend that he doesn’t notice how readily he’s given his attention.
If Shane had been a better man, if he had been someone more compassionate, more kind, more like Ryan, he would probably feel a modicum of shame for entertaining the thoughts that occasionally intrudes his mind like an unwelcome visitor. The things he could make him do. How far could he push the boundaries between them? How far could he push Ryan without ruining their connection? What depraved, terrible things could he make him do if he had simply…took over? How much control could he encourage Ryan to surrender to him? It speaks volumes that he can’t quite manage to dredge up any form chastisement for himself.
Still, he’s not so far removed from humanity, contrary to popular belief. He knows boundaries even if he skirts around them to test them. He knows when giving into his impulse would yield more trouble than it’s worth. So he keeps things at a minimum. For the sake of their continued connection with each other, he waits and uses it whenever necessary instead.
These moments come in the form of emotionally charged situations. When Ryan’s pupils get a little too wide, his breathing a little too shallow and he’s unable to stand still without shaking as violently as a single leaf caught in the stormy winds. See one of the things Shane simultaneously enjoyed and disliked about Ryan Steven Bergara is that he’s wired entirely differently from Shane. That’s not to say that he’s weak or vulnerable. He’s neither of those things and people can suck his apple taters for ever thinking so. What he is, is a fucking livewire. Ready to set off in any given direction, good or bad.
Shane never does know how to deal with others who are governed by emotions. Not that he’s some robot incapable of feeling emotions himself. It’s just doubly difficult to find the right words for people who continue to feel them over the course of time. He just doesn’t process things the same way most people do. So who can blame him if he falls back to relying on the good ol facts? The tools he has at his disposal?
He’ll watch Ryan shake to pieces. He’ll stand by and watch as he slowly unravels with each creak of the house settling. He’ll watch as Ryan stares back at him with wide eyes, breathing coming in irregular puffs and pacing restlessly. He’ll watch him flinch strongly away from shadows and imagined beasts. He waits until Ryan’s on the verge of fleeing, panicky rambling of a man driven to near madness from the force of his own fears. Then, and only then, he’ll step in.
“Ryan. It’s fine.” Shane sets a hand against the curve of Ryan’s shoulder and squeezes firmly. He’ll take a step closer, then another. Until he’s crowding into Ryan’s space, invading his senses so that he’d focus on him. Only him. “You’re fine. It’s just the house settling. You’re fine.”
He’ll take another chance. Rest a palm against Ryan’s face, thumb roughly stroking against his cheekbone in a repetitive gesture. “You’re fine. I’m still here. Breathe.”
He’ll stand with him, time after time, holding him in place with just the sound of his voice and his eyes alone. Whisper “Breathe, baby.” Watch as Ryan swallows thickly and does just that, never once looking away from Shane.