Mine {ShaneMadejXRyanBergara}

CHAPTER DRIVE: Fuck, fuck, fuck

its ya boi, skinny penis back with America's favorite gays. well they're not actually gay but a boy can dream.

The still sleeping Shane rolled over, hand flying out to the other side of the bed where Ryan had been not too long ago. Warmth radiated from the empty crater left and Shane sighed into pillows. After breathing in deeply and not recognizing the scent as his own, he popped an eye open, light flooding into his vision and illuminating the unfamiliar room. Slowly, he sat up, shook the sleep out of his head and started to get up. He jumped as a door slammed on the first floor, peeling the covers off of himself than rotating his legs so his feet landed on the cold, wood of the floor.
Not thinking too much about the events that took place last night, Shane trekked into the bedroom, rubbing his face. He took a quick piss, flushed the toilet then began his path down the stairs.
When he had reached the bottom of the staircase, he instinctively kept walking straight, somehow knowing his shirt and jeans were in the BU room.
And that's when it all came to him. First, the memories, then the regret, and lastly the embarrassment. After pulling on his clothes, he groaned into his hands, ruffling his hair, before reaching a hand in his pocket for his phone (thank god it was still there).
Shane decided to just call an uber home, so he could maul this all over before he confronted Ryan and waited on the porch for Howard W. to show up. (not on a scooter unfortunately)
This was definitely not good. He had dug himself into some deep deep shit and it was going to be hard to get back out. Poor Ryan, he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose, He was grieving and I took advantage of that. I can't believe myself.
The lanky man sulked on the porch for about five minutes until his uber had come and he dragged his feet across the lawn and into the little, grey Mitsubishi. He noticed that Ryan's car was missing as Howard pulled out onto the road. That explained the door slamming and the lack of Ryans in the house.

Once Shane had arrived safely to his house, he bid Howard farewell and walked up the small set of steps to his front door. He walked into his house and made a beeline straight for the kitchen. It didn't matter how shitty he felt, he would never not want food.
While stuffing cold leftover Little Caesar's into his mouth, Shane pulled out his phone to check for any missed texts or calls he might've received. The man didn't find anything interesting, although he noticed a reminder of the new episode he and Ryan were going to have to shoot tomorrow.
He let the crust of the pizza fall to the plate and sighed, a long, regretful sigh. After, slouching over the counter for a few more moments, Shane slowly lifted his head, then his thin torso, stretching his long arms above his head. He slowly walked through his home to the living room and plopped onto the couch grabbing the remote to absentmindedly flip through the HD channels. His mind was elsewhere, though, lost in an imaginary parallel world where he hadn't fucked everything up and him and Ryan were still okay. He didn't know if the two of them weren't okay, but it wasn't hard to guess that he was probably correct in assuming so.
After switching between checking his phone and surfing TV channels for an hour, Shane turned the TV off and sprawled across the couch, shifting to get into a comfortable position.
Tears spilled from his eyes which were clenched shut whilr silent sobs racked his body and soon he had fallen in to a sleep full of nightmares.

"Are your bags in the trunk, sir?" a tall, young man asked, phony grin plastered to his face. Ryan shook his head numbly, stepping out of the car, which the valet man had opened for him. The boy nodded, stepping out of the shorter man's way. It wasn't hard to understand that Ryan wanted to be left alone by his face, so he walked away, towards another car that had pulled up at the hotel. Ryan dropped his keys into the older valet man's hand and dragged himself out of the lot into the hotel lobby. He was met with a warm, room completed with a front desk and plush chair and sofas placed on either side of the door. It was a nice break from the stinging, cold air of January, he noted as he walked over to the lady at the desk, painting a small smile on his lips. She grinned back, folding her hands on the silver countertop, waiting. For what? Oh, right, he should probably ask for a room, huh?
"Uh.. one, um, single bed room, please," he mumbled, pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his black jeans. Her nametag caught the light as she began typing into her computer and to Ryan's great misfortune it read Ellen. What a mean trick.
Once she had finished printing out a keycard, she estimated the cost to be $250 for one night, included dinner and breakfast. Ryan nodded, pulling out his credit card for her to happily slip through the Verifone and hand back. The raven thanked her with a blank face, smile forgotten, and crossed over to the elevator.
As soon as he had entered his room from the gorgeously decorated hallway, which he of course paid no mind to, his phone buzzed from the side pocket of his jacket. He pulled it out, pained look on his face and brought his eyes to the illuminated screen.
"I know you probably don't want to speak to me, and that's perfectly understandable, but I have the dogs with me right now. We need to figure out custody. I'm so sorry, Ryan-Helen."
Great, that's just what he needed right now. Fuck, he didn't want to have to worry about this. Rubbing his temples, the small man fell onto the desk chair sitting between the small TV and window. A tear fell from his face onto his lap and he realized he was crying. That's weird, he didn't feel like he was crying and he wasn't sad, yet here he was, face scrunched, tears spilling from his eyes. Why was this all happening? What was going on? Was this some sort of joke or something? He chalked it up to bad luck and left it there, no longer wanting to think and feel anymore. Damn, he could really use a drink right now.