Work Text:
He'd been denying his feelings for Shane since they were just a mere inkling.
Ryan had gotten over his internalized biphobia pretty quickly after he started working at Buzzfeed, but people had also assumed pretty quickly that there was something going on between Shane and him shortly after they'd started working together. Ryan couldn't come out while he was single. He was terrified that people might start teasing the two of them even more, that Shane would start to think Ryan did in fact have feelings for him, and it would blow their entire friendship.
Ryan couldn't even bear the thought.
He reasoned that if he found a boyfriend or girlfriend, maybe it wouldn't make him look suspicious and he could tell people that he was bi. He could build a life with that person, marry them, move into a single family home with a white picket fence, have two kids and a dog. He would move on, his feelings for Shane would go away and he wouldn't have to be terrified all the time about his best friend finding out and losing him forever.
Now he was 29, still single, and living in a condo with the best friend he was in love with. He felt like a fucking moron.
He told himself that he could still find a relationship, that this living arrangement would only be temporary, that he would one day have a fiance and be moving out with them.
He knew before he even signed the lease that he was fooling himself but figured he at least had to try.
Ryan arrives back at the condo, feeling the cool breeze of Autumn draw up goosebumps on his skin. He goes up the stairs to their condo and opens the door.
A quick glance toward the couch has Ryan's keys clattering to the floor.
Shane is sitting on their couch, a laptop propped up on their coffee table, completely naked with a hand wrapped around his cock and the sound of Ryan's name having just fallen from his lips. He clearly didn't hear the door open but the sound of the keys hitting the floor is enough to make him startle and turn around.
Ryan merely blinks at him, and Shane regards him with the same wide eyed and shocked expression.
He recovers before Shane does though, quickly crossing the room, needing to see whatever the hell Shane was watching that made him decide to carelessly jerk off in the living room while thinking about Ryan. He snatches up the laptop and starts skimming through the video. He expects that Shane might protest or jump to try to stop him, but he's still just sitting there, gaping up at Ryan.
Ryan watches in awe as a pale, tall, slim, amber brown-haired man draws a knife towards the chest of a tan, shorter, muscular, dark-haired man. His breath catches as the taller man swipes the knife over the shorter man's chest, eliciting a gasp from the shorter man as a shallow cut appears on his chest. The taller man leans down to lap hungrily at the blood, and curl his fingers around the shorter man's dick. They're both groaning loudly and Ryan pauses the video, setting the laptop down.
He looks up to find that Shane is still naked, though he's taken the time to cover his dick with his hands. He's just...sitting there, with flushed cheeks, watching Ryan. He looks like he's about to speak when Ryan holds up a hand. Shane quickly closes his mouth. They both know there is no remotely believable excuse he could up with that would make this anything other than what it is.
Ryan knows this should freak him out. Walking in on his best friend jerking off. Walking in on his best friend jerking off, clearly thinking of him, moaning out his name, while watching porn about knives and blood featuring two guys who look remotely like the two of them.
But it doesn't. His skin flares with heat and want ignites through his veins as he steps in front of Shane, taking his face in his hands, and pressing his lips firmly against Shane's. Shane's frozen for a moment before he starts kissing Ryan back fervently, his fingers winding into Ryan's hair and clinging desperately to the strands, his tongue eagerly pushing its way past Ryan's lips. Ryan moans at the hot, wet feel of Shane's mouth against his own, pouring years upon years of pent up emotion and desire into the kiss. He pulls back for breath, his palms still cradling Shane's face, his thumbs caressing over Shane's cheeks.
The words he's kept locked in his heart threaten to tumble out of his mouth and into the air between them, but he swallows them down like shards of glass. Shane never talks about feelings and Ryan knows he'd fall apart if he were the one to make Shane run.
Ryan drops to his knees, tearing off his clothes as he takes in the sight of Shane sitting on the couch above him. His long slender legs are parted, droplets of pre-come dotting his thighs. His cock is red and leaking, a stark contrast to the milky expanse of his stomach. He's flushed cherry red from his forehead down to his chest, his lips kiss swollen and wet, and Ryan feels something rumble inside him at the knowledge that Shane's current state is all his doing.
"I want you to cut me," Ryan breathes in a rush, nodding toward the laptop.
He watches as Shane groans and squeezes his cock, as if Ryan's words alone have unraveled his inhibitions.
"Where?" Shane asks, his eyes roving over Ryan's body.
Ryan brings his hand up to his own chest, shivering as he skims it across his nipples, wanting Shane to keep looking at him like this.
Ryan closes his eyes, his thighs spreading apart as if they're meant to. "Anywhere," he whispers.
Shane springs up from the couch with surprising agility, disappearing into his room and returning quickly with a carving knife. He turns Ryan slightly, kneeling down as well, showing Ryan that the depth of his devotion matches his own. He presses his palm to Ryan's chest and Ryan shudders at the mere touch alone. How long has it been that Ryan has ached for Shane to touch him like this? Like he wants it, like he means it? How long has Ryan pretended that every small brush of fingers, every pat on the shoulder, every accidental press of their thighs doesn't send his heart into overddrive, thudding in his ears?
It doesn't matter, because Shane is touching him now. It doesn't matter because even if this is the last and only time Ryan will know what this feels like, he will always have the memory.
Shane holds up the blade for Ryan to see and it glimmers in the dim lamp light. Ryan can tell that it's sharp. Ryan can tell that it might hurt. But Ryan trusts Shane. Loves Shane. Wants every single part of him; the sweet and the gentle, the repressed and the frustrated, the dark and the depraved. He'd do anything Shane asked of him. Shane curls his fingers in Ryan's hair, and Ryan's eyes fix on Shane's face. Shane licks his lips and he's panting a little, as if the promise of Ryan's skin and blood has awoken a primal hunger in him.
The first cut is small and it hurts but Ryan's cock leaks onto his stomach and he shivers out Shane's name.
"More," Ryan whispers. "Please...fuck...more."
Shane continues with another tiny slash, this one a little deeper than the last, and Ryan moans in reply, panting heavily. He can feel the heat of his own blood starting to run down his skin.
He realizes that Shane isn't only pausing between cuts to ensure that he's not harming Ryan, but also because he wants to draw this out, drink in every reaction and gulp it down.
Shane delivers a quick flurry of slashes and Ryan's hips jerk forward, his head growing light and dizzy as he stares up at Shane. Shane stares back at him, his pupils blown, his gaze dark. He delivers a final cut, slower, deeper and Ryan nearly comes right then and there. Shane hauls Ryan to his feet and pulls him into the bathroom so that Ryan can see the carving Shane has left behind.
Ryan sees two crudely sharp letters.
They're Shane's initials. Ryan groans deeply at the realization, leaning back against Shane as his wiry arms come to wrap around Ryan's waist. He whines at the feel of the tip of Shane's tongue gliding lightly over the shell of his ear.
"You're mine," Shane whispers, spinning Ryan around and pressing him back up against the bathroom counter.
Ryan's head feels like it's filled with radio static and then Shane's tongue is pressing to the wound, tracing over the letters over and over again, drawing Ryan's blood into his mouth.
"Yours, yours, yours," Ryan practically sobs, his mind unable to form anything more coherent.
Shane drags Ryan back into the living room by his hair, and Ryan feels like the air has been punched out of him. Shane gently eases Ryan onto his knees, holding Ryan's head so that he's face level with Shane's cock.
"Please," Ryan begs, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "Please let me suck you off."
Shane makes a guttural sound, clutching the back of the couch as Ryan guides Shane's cock into his mouth. He has no idea what he's doing but the sounds Shane is making spur him on. He gives into the yearning he's held for Shane for so long, taking as much of Shane into his mouth as he can. He feigns gagging so he can allow the tears to fall. He drags his lips from the tip and all the way down to the shaft, hollowing out his cheeks, tonguing over every millimeter he can get this mouth on. He wants to remember this. He wants to remember all of this. He wants to hold that memory close and never let it go.
Shane thrusts accidentally into Ryan's mouth and he gags for real this time. He notices Shane trying to still his hips but Ryan digs his fingers brusingly into Shane's ass cheeks, encouraging him to fuck his mouth, to use it however he sees fit, however he wants. Shane tugs at Ryan's hair as he begins to shallowly thrust into Ryan's mouth. Ryan's making small, desperate, needy sounds around Shane's cock. He can't get enough. He can't get enough of Shane. He'll never be able to get enough of Shane. He wants Shane's name written a million times over his skin, wants Shane to fill as many holes as he can, wants Shane to meld into him until he's the very air Ryan breathes.
For now, he just focuses on Shane's cock, on how its filling his mouth, hot and heavy and wonderful. Shane comes down Ryan's throat with a deep moan, and Ryan eagerly swallows down every last drop, not wanting to waste even a little of anything Shane gives him. Shane's hand curls around Ryan's cock and Ryan is coming undone in just a few strokes. Shane's hand is coated in Ryan's come and Ryan grasp Shane's wrist as he licks it all off of his hand and swallows, bits of both of them mingled on his tongue, closer together than Ryan can ever hope them to be. Shane helps Ryan to his feet and walks them to the bathroom, using a soft, damp washcloth to gently pat away the blood that's dried on Ryan's skin.
This is the part that hurts the most, the sting of not knowing if he'll ever be treated like this again, like he's something to be treated delicately, preciously. Shane leads Ryan into his bedroom, taking him under the covers and into his arms. Ryan wraps his arms around Shane's waist, trying not to hold on too tight, trying not to hold on as if he's terrified that Shane will leave at any moment.
Predictably, Shane falls asleep first.
Once Ryan is sure that Shane is all the way asleep, he presses his face into Shane's pillow to muffle his sobs, tracing his fingers over Shane's back to soak in as much of him as he can before it's all over.
Eventually, eyes red, swollen and tried from crying so much, Ryan manages to drift off to sleep.