Reverence [Shyan]

home

Ryan goddamn Bergara was moving into his apartment.

His apartment. Or at least it used to be. It's not like he completely minded though, as it was technically himself that gave him the opportunity in the first place.

It had taken more decision making on Shane's part rather than Ryan's on how Ryan could possibly pay any of his medical fees. His carefree attitude he had adopted since waking up didn't help either, as Shane was the one who had to give him the option in moving in with him when Ryan immediately decided that selling his house was the best option. It would certainly help and wouldn't throw him into any sort of debt, but Ryan's lack of attachment to his possessions was vaguely concerning to Shane.

And thus their grand move-in scheme began. Luckily, Shane had a spare guest bedroom that Ryan could stay in. Most of the furniture in Ryan's house had to be sold in addition to the house itself, yet Shane had to do an unreasonable amount of convincing to his friend to not sell possessions that most people and probably the rest of his family would consider pretty important. Ryan had gone on another spiel about how physical possessions didn't matter after anyways as Shane packed some of his important documents and heirlooms into a box.

It was decided that Ryan would look for another part-time job, but wouldn't have to split the rent until he had completely paid off his medical and therapy fees. It was also decided, nonetheless, that he would be in charge of all food and cleaning, as he currently had to stay home as he was recovering, and also claimed that he could be 'good at cooking once he got his hands on some family recipes'.

Unfortunately, during this entire move in, Shane was the only one actually doing all the 'moving in'. All Ryan did was manage to heave himself into the elevator to Shane's apartment and sleep on the living room couch until Shane was finished bringing in all of his stuff.

Closing and locking the front door, Shane wandered back into the living room. He leaned on the archway to the room itself, watching over his friend's sleeping figure on his own couch, casted leg in a probably very uncomfortable position. Ryan stirred a bit, almost as if he could tell Shane was finished and staring at him.

"Hey sleeping beauty," Shane teased, "Welcome home, bud. Mi casa es su casa." Ryan blinked a few times before sitting up, grinning with an unmeasurable amount of happiness.

"I'm home," he murmured, drinking in his surroundings. His eyes were twinkling.

"It's not much, but I hope your luxurious lifestyle can handle it."

"No, I- I really feel it. I'm home."

"You're home?"

"Yeah. You're welcoming... and well meaning... I can really feel it here. I'm home." He sighed contentedly, leaning back to embrace the moment.

After Ryan's statement, Shane could almost really feel it too. That he was home. That they were both home. Or at least that's what the swelling emotion in his chest probably was. They both basked in the moment together in silence, enjoying the peace and stillness of it.

"Are you hungry?" Ryan asked suddenly, reaching for his crutches so he could stand himself up.

"Erm, yeah. Famished."

"Guess I should start my cooking career here then. Do you have any tortillas?"

"Uh... yeah... I think so. There should be a few left in the fridge."

Ryan stared at him for a few seconds before questioning him further: "How big are they?"

"Um, like this big?" Shane motioned a circle with his hands about the size of dinner plate. Ryan narrowed his eyes further and Shane waited to be judged by his limited knowledge of Mexican culture.