Death on Two Legs // Shyan

9. Bad Luck

Late November, 2018

Tinsley was safely in the dirt as the sun began to rise. Ryan sighed as he fell back on the drivers seat, eyes closed tight. His skin was clammy of sweat, shirt sticking to him uncomfortably.
"It's a two hours drive home, man... I can't do that right now."
He informed Shane as he climbed into the shotgun seat, hair a mess, dirt under his fingernails. His flannel was tied up around his waist, a white tee also clinging to his body. It was kind of hot.
"What, so you're expecting me to drive?"
Shane's voice was tired, yet oddly heated as he gave Ryan a sharp glare.
"Not gonna happen, buckaroo."
Brent and Mark were in no condition to drive either. None of them had slept in over 30 hours, it was starting to weight on them. On a 60mph road, it would be seriously dangerous as well.
"Fuck, fine. We'll sleep in the car."
Ryan grunted, turning his shoulder to Shane as he desperately tried to forget about the tall man's existence.
"What? No way, I'm not gonna fuck my back up just because you're too stingy to get a motel room!"
Shane's raving was hard to ignore.
"Well boo hoo, you're a literal six feet tall baby, Madej."
"Six feet four." He corrected.
"Fuck off."

Twenty minutes passed, and the van parked in front of the shittiest motel any of the four had ever seen;
The paint was peeling off the walls, the windows were covered in sand dust.
"Are you sure it's not like... abandoned?"
Shane mumbled, eyes barely open.
"Google maps says it's not. Anyway, as long as they have working showers, I'm gonna be really happy."
It was seven in the morning, the receptionist had just sat down with a coffee cup, irritated look in her eyes.
"Three rooms please." Ryan's voice was irritated too.
"Name?"
"It's Ricky Goldsworth."
They had planned on Brent and Mark sharing a room (because they actually got along well) and him and Shane getting rooms for themselves, alone, SEPERATELY.
And that all went down the drain as Ryan began to pay;
"Cash only." The woman muttered as Ryan took his credit card from his wallet.
"What? You've got to be fucking kidding me ma'am, the year is 2018!"
He turned to look at the three men behind him, Brent's eyes were closed as he leaned on the doorframe, Mark sat in the lone chair by the empty wending machine, and Shane was standing there looking like a zombie.
"Cash only." She repeated, growing even more annoyed at this 'disrespectful young man'.
"Got any cash, guys?"
Brent checked his wallet, only finding a crumpled five-dollar bill. Mark had twenty bucks in his jacket pocket. Shane went to check the car for parking money leftovers and came back with seven dollars (in cents, so his hands were basically full).
They could only afford two rooms.

"I'll go with Brent." Ryan was quick to announce, like a child reserving a tent with his best friend.
"No disrespect man, but I think you and Shane got some shit to comb trough. This is a good oppotunity, if you don't kill each other first."
Brent really seemed to enjoy the expression of defeated rage rise up in Ryan's tired eyes. The short man was too tired to protest.
"Fuck you, dude." He mumbled and threw the other key to Mark.
It was a quite small motel with no more than thirteen rooms lined up to a corridor. Ryan and Shane got the eleventh one.
"What the actual FUCK?! God hates me, he really does." Ryan cried out as he got in the room.
It had just one bed.
"Don't pull a no homo on me, Bergara. It's a just a goddamn double bed."
Shane's voice was so tired, he was so full of Ryan's shit (it was usually the other way around).
"Jesus, I'd rather sleep in the car than next to your lanky ass."
"Wow, that's rude."
Shane laughed, throwing his jacket on a chair that stood under the window.
"I'll go take a shower." Ryan just mumbled like a moody child and disappeared into the small bathroom, slamming the door shut agressively.

By the time he came back fifteen minutes later, Shane was in the bed, on his phone.
"Put a shirt on for fuck's sake!"
Ryan sounded almost horrified.
"It's all sweaty, dirty and disgusting, no way."
He didn't even take his eyes away from the screen. Ryan's moist hair was falling over his eyes, his face was beginning to feel hot and he didn't know if it was the shower's fault or not.
"I'm not gonna get in a same bed with you when you're naked, dude."
"I tought you liked guys?" Shane laughed, he was literally the only person to laugh at his jokes ever. Well, Sara did sometimes, but chances were that she just tried to be polite.
Ryan was biting the inside of his cheek as his sleep deprivated brain tried to come up with a comeback of any kind.
"Well yeah, but I definitely don't like you!" He wanted to run back to the bathroom, he wanted to go wake Brent up and tell him to exchange the people they had to sleep in the same bed with. He'd take Brent, he'd take mark, but Shane? That was torture, that man was radiating with warmth, Ryan would probably roll to his side in his sleep because of that factor alone.
"If it's such a big deal, go sleep in the car. You'll probably die in the heat within three hours, good luck."
Shane's voice had lost most of the amusement, he set his phone on the nightstand and plugged it into his charger. Then he just rolled over, not minding the paniced look on Ryan's face at all. It was like some part of him still enjoyed seeing him like that, with a mixture of terror and irritation making his eyes fiery, with his muscles tensed and jaw set tight.
"Well, I'm gonna sleep now, so make your decision fast. I don't wanna wake up to you slamming doors."
Shane muttered as he wrapped himself into the covers, bare feet peeking from over the back of the bed. He was too tall for basically every man made object.
"Jesus fucking christ, fine." Ryan whined, laying down on the very edge of the bed. He knew he was acting like a child, and he wondered how in the world it all got to this point.
Three years ago he was free of the eternal pain in his ass called Shane Alexander Madej, year later he wanted to strangle the man with his own bare hands. Now they were sleeping in the same bed.

Shane was a snorer.
God, one more irritating and oddly attractive trait to add in Ryan's very, very long list.
The sun came trough the blinds, making it hard for Ryan to fall asleep. It was almost midday when he finally did, the dreams he sunk into were distracted and frail. He would wake a few times, finding himself from closer to Shane's side than his own, but quickly reset himself in the far end.