I tried writing fanfiction - Buzzfeed Unsolved has been drowning my mind recently, so here is my tribute I guess. Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. If you got something ugly to say, go wash your key board. Thank you!
Find my AO3 account here: http://archiveofourown.org/users/noeysoulgem/works
“Dude I swear to God if you even attempt to put that whole thing in your mouth…”
Ryan sat across from his business partner and friend, watching the horrific scene with disbelief in his eyes. There was absolutely no way Shane would fit that whole sandwich in his pie hole, but he was going to try nonetheless. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. This was too much, especially right before a plane ride. The pair were flying back from a visit to the only demon-involved episode of the season, and after what had happened Ryan was not too keen to be stuck on a plane for nine hours with no escape. Even Shane, despite his own disbelief, agreed that there was something weird about the hotel room they had spent the night in - a major win for the show, but not doing a lot to calm Ryan’s nerves. This sandwich thing was the last straw.
“Sff? I DIFFIT!”
“Oh gross, Shane!” Ryan peeked through his fingers and wished he never had eyes. Shane had (unfortunately) succeeded in stuffing an entire Subway six-inch into his mouth, and there was saliva everywhere. Ryan threw up a little bit.
“That is the nastiest shit I have ever seen you do. That is disgusting. I can’t even look at you right now, spit that out!”
Shane somehow laughed, swallowed something, and carefully extracted the now soggy sandwich. He looked up to see Ryan shudder and laughed some more.
“You’re so squeamish, it’s hilarious,” he remarked happily.
“Shut the fuck up, Madej,” Ryan retorted. He would never recover from this. He would be scarred for life. He would have nightmares of sitting in this stupid cafeteria in this stupid airport, rewatching Shane cram a whole goddamn sandwich into his face. If this wasn’t hell, it was the closest one could get to it this Earth. Shane, however, was having a field day - because of fucking course he was.
“That was pretty disgusting, bro,” commented one of the camera crew. Collectively, they had started filming again as soon as Shane had mentioned stuffing his face.
“I can’t even eat anymore, thanks to you!” Ryan complained loudly. To further prove his point, he wrapped up the uneaten portion of his food and placed in his duffel with a frown. He was met with laughter from all sides.
“I didn’t mean to make you that upset, buddy,” Shane said. There was a massive smile on his face that suggested otherwise. Ryan shook his head, but couldn’t keep a smile of his own from creeping onto his face.
“Shoulda thought of that earlier, Shane.”
“Ryan! I’m trying to be sincere!”
“Too bad,” came out of the shit-eating grin that probably didn’t grace Ryan’s face as much as he wanted it to. Shane rolled his eyes.
“You’re the worst traveling partner ever.”
“Says the guy who just put a whole sandwich in his mouth.”
“Flight #185 is now boarding. Please return to terminal B5 at this time.”
“That’s ours!” Ryan stated, hurriedly gathering his duffel and backpack.
“Jeez, in a hurry much?” teased one of the camera heads.
“Um, yeah,” Ryan responded. “Sooner I get out of here the better!”
Shane scoffed. “You’re demon friend isn’t going to follow you home, Ryan.”
“It might! I don’t want to give it the chance to figure out what plane I’m on!”
Shane laughed and followed his companion back to the waiting area, taunting all the way there.
Ryan did not like planes. They gave him more anxiety than anything other than perhaps his job. All the people, all the noise, all the turbulence, all the disaster stories, and worst: no exits. At least he wasn’t sitting by a stranger - Shane always made sure to grab the spot next to Ryan. He was a good friend like that. Shame himself didn’t like the noise either, but that could easily fixed with headphones and music. For Ryan, however, it wasn’t that simple. He needed physical reassurance whenever the ride would get shaky, and Shane really didn’t mind. The most Ryan would do was grab the closest body near him and crush it with in his grip. Usually, it was Shane’s arm that was in the line of fire. Once or twice it was his hand, and there was also that one time that Ryan had grabbed Shane’s thigh…, they both agreed to never mention it again. The camera guys often got nervous about the equipment they couldn’t carry on; the security checks were a long and confusing mess. All in all, planes were just a bad rap for the whole Unsolved crew.
The worst part of any flying experience was the take-off. Both boys would get jumpy, and Shane was quite susceptible to terrible sinus and ear pressure. Curiously, landings were never a problem, but today’s lift was especially bad for him. Shane was fighting back tears while Ryan sat next to him, stiff as a wooden board with a death grip on the arm rest. There was an awful pounding in Shane’s ears and temple, and he couldn’t really think beyond the ache spreading evenly across his forehead. The flight attendant’s voice disappeared halfway through her safety spiel. Someone passed him a stick of gum, which Shane took gratefully. It was only towards the end of the ascension (when the pressure wore off) that they realized they were holding hands.
As soon as the plane stabilized and now-slightly-awkward-hand-holding was over, Ryan was transfixed with the view. He was always looking out the window - from cars to trains to planes (only after all the yikes were over, though). He found scenery so beautiful, especially up in the air. Ryan would point out things to Shane, as the latter found heights like this sickening. Ryan would press his forehead against the tiny rectangle and reel off everything he saw while Shane worked on something in his seat. The camera crew, whose life-purpose seemed to be documenting the pair’s every moment, took pictures and even filmed when Ryan got especially excited. It was cute - well, Shane told him it was.
Once the whole “holy shit Shane that cloud looks like you” ordeal was done, both would either stare at their laptop screens for a while or go right to sleep - it depended where they were coming from. On this particular occasion, the pair had been shepherded away from the haunted (or “haunted,” as Shane would insist) hotel and straight to the airport. They were tired, jumpy because of planes and whatever happened last night, and the meal at the airport had taken effect at the terminal. Shane, who could find a way to fall asleep anywhere, had long been out when Ryan grew bored of the view. The camera nerds (who had gotten a solid 8-hours of sleep in a safe, un-haunted room) were busy editing and reviewing the tapes of the new episode. Nobody on the plane had recognized them (officially, anyway), and most others were either asleep as well or not really paying attention. Ryan was tired and nervous and cold. In his delirious state, he recognized the friend beside him as a heated pillow of safety that he was very familiar with. Ryan peered around for a bit, decided he didn’t really care about appearances, and promptly dropped his head onto Shane’s shoulder.
Behind him, the rest of the crew snickered. They were taking pictures, no doubt. Ryan couldn’t bring himself to care as he drifted away into the unconscious.