a new motto - for the O.C. Ficathon
Jul. 13th, 2004 08:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tommygirlTitle: A New Motto
Author: TommyGirl![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
storydivagirl
Written For:__mintyfresh - hope you like. I did my best to bring the Seth humor where I could.
Summary: Set after season one finale. Seth and Ryan both come to realize that their relationship is more than friendship.
Characters: Seth/Ryan with some Summer for fun.
A/N: A happy ending was requested so I aimed to please. My first O.C. piece, so I hope it wasn't too terrible. Much love to my wonderful beta goddessrachel_wilder. Feedback always appreciated.
Seth decided what he needed was a motto of some sort—a simple saying that he could pull out of his verbal arsenal whenever he felt it necessary, something that reminded him of what the hell he was doing on this planet. It would have to be something like those little sayings on bumper stickers and tee-shirts; something cutesy yet sarcastic, something to live by. Maybe that (or a severe lacking of) was the reason he never had friends in the past and that the one friend he did have decided to move back to the fringes of society rather than be around him anymore. Maybe it was because he had no motto. Well, none that really made sense or didn’t invite scorn or looks of insanity (like the time his mantra was “Who needs real girls when Comic Girls are hotter?”) from other people.
Seth hovered by his window, offering his best imitation of stealth which resulted in him knocking the blinds off their rung and undoubtedly drawing attention to himself. He didn’t want Ryan to see him, didn’t want Ryan to pity the poor friendless idiot who couldn’t help but watch as his best friend drove back to his real life with a girl he didn’t even love. Seth went back and forth on that point. Ryan didn’t love her. He couldn’t love her, but he was leaving all the same. Seth wavered between utter devastation and a strange pride in Ryan for standing by Theresa until he finally decided that his best course of action was to pretend Ryan didn’t exist. Seth could pass it off as one long dream, an imaginary friend that came complete with invitations to parties and the girl of his dreams. The problem with that plan of action was that he wasn’t sure he could do that and remain in Newport. It would make him crazy. Well, crazier.
And that was when Seth decided what his motto was, his guiding reason for getting up in the morning and going on in his loserdom lifestyle: life stinks, but death is painful…so suck it up and move on. It seemed realistic enough. He would never be one of those depressed writer types like Hemingway—and not because Summer would never agree to be seen with a man in an overcoat—because he abhorred things like pain and blood, especially if it was his own. No, he liked his new motto. It had a certain joie d’ vive to it.
Seth stopped breathing for a second when he heard voices in the hall and the approach of footsteps. He jumped away from the window, deciding now was the perfect opportunity to employ his new Ryan-never-existed method of living. He ran across the hardwood floor and went to hop on the bed…but missed by about a foot and crashed down onto the floor.
“God. Are you okay?” a voice said from over him. Seth rolled over, trying not to wince in pain as he did so, and met Summer’s typical you’re-a-jackass gaze she frequently wore around him. She folded her arms and said, “The bed’s over there, Cohen.”
“Thank you. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a groan.
“Did you hurt yourself?” she asked, extending her hand to help him up.
He rolled his eyes, but took her hand all the same. Once he was on his feet, he rubbed his forehead and said, “Nah. Luckily, my face broke my fall.”
“It’s not gonna bruise, is it? The summer bash at the country club is coming up and I don’t want our pictures to look like you barely survived an ass kicking by a seven-year-old.”
Seth forced a frown and questioned, “You don’t think I could take a seven-year-old?”
“Cohen—“
“Because I could, you know. Well, if he was small for his age and had a bad leg.”
She giggled, rolled her eyes and then stood on her tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. That was when Seth knew his motto had promise. Because his life did suck, but if he were dead, he couldn’t kiss Summer and that seemed sick and wrong.
Almost as much as the idea of Ryan not being a part of his life did.
And there he was. Right back where he started, where he swore he wasn’t going to tread any longer.
“While it’s nice to see how concerned you are for me, I’m fine,” he replied. He refused to allow his eyes to land on the stupid map that Ryan bought him as a going away gift. Ryan didn’t exist and therefore the map didn’t exist. It was like The Matrix—there was no spoon. He glanced at Summer, forcing a smile, though he didn’t feel like smiling and all he wanted to do was curl up on his bed and plot out a quick escape with Captain Oats. He sat on the edge of his bed and said, “And for the record, as experienced as I am at getting my ass kicked, you don’t have to worry about bruising.”
She sat down next to him and took his hand. Seth knew she was trying to be supportive and help him through this, but right now it wasn’t helping. He couldn’t explain to her what it felt like to be all alone. Summer wouldn’t understand that. She was beautiful and popular and unstoppable. He was the opposite. He was the loser of Newport, friendless and lost and certain of only one thing—life sucks.
“I’m here, you know. You haven’t lost me.”
He tried not to think about what she was saying. Lost. It was all wrong. The connotation, the way she said it with a shrug as though he was overreacting. Ryan wasn’t lost. He was gone. He chose to leave and Seth knew where to find him. He wasn’t fucking lost. Lost would imply Ryan needed to be found. Seth’s stomach tightened and his throat closed up as he resisted the urge to scream this bit information out or pry his hand away from Summer’s. He didn’t need any more enemies so he forced a small laugh from the back of his throat. She would never get it and there was no use in trying to explain it.
He shrugged, “I know.”
“Cohen, you’re freaking me out. Ryan’s not dead.”
“I know,” he repeated. It was the only words he remembered. Him. Mr. Inane Babbler Dude couldn’t think of anything to say. This was pathetic, even for him.
But how was he supposed to make sense of this. He knew there was something going on, something he couldn’t explain away as Ryan being his best friend. Ryan was more than that to him, more like his...everything...and how did he tell his girlfriend that maybe all those times the jock gods of the school kicked his ass and swore “faggot” at him…maybe they were onto something and it took knowing Ryan, took Ryan choosing a life with Theresa, to make that clear to Seth.
Seth didn’t need anymore enemies. At the moment, Summer was his only friend, the only person he had left. And it wasn’t like Ryan felt anything for him. They weren’t even brothers. Seth was nothing, something that could easily be tossed aside for a mediocre life in Chino because…Ryan didn’t care.
Seth stared at the map and said, “I’m a loser, Summer.”
“Yes, but it’s like…part of your charm.”
Seth nodded. A smile formed of its own will and he replied, “Thank you. You always know how to make me feel better.”
Her hands ran through his hair and she rested her head on his shoulder. She sighed and said, “You need to go talk to him, Cohen.”
“What?”
“You didn’t say goodbye, did you? That’s why you’re moping around here like your puppy kicked the bucket?”
Seth’s eyes widened and he shrugged, “Sorry. Imagining Ryan transforming into the Shaggy Dog. Oddly, he still had an affinity for white tee-shirts.”
“You’re really weird sometimes.”
“Sometimes? It’s like you don’t know me at all, Summer.”
“Go visit Chino.”
“He left like a half hour ago. I’ll look desperate for companionship and I survived for a long time as a solo act. I just need to readjust for a bit,” Seth countered. He didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t visit Ryan. Not now, not ever, because there were so many things that could come falling out of Seth’s mouth and there was no way in hell he was going to do that.
“I’ll drive.”
“No.”
“You can apologize for moping and ignoring him since he announced he was leaving—“
“You’re starting to sound a lot like my mother and that disturbs me a great deal.”
“Stop being a chicken, Cohen.”
“Lovely. I always enjoy it when the grade school banter of ‘chicken’ and ‘cootie boy’ are used.”
“Cootie boy?”
“Melissa Henderson. Second grade. Long story. Very humiliating.”
“Whatever,” Summer replied. She glanced at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking, and added, “You can’t keep pretending he doesn’t exist or it will be a crappy summer break, Cohen, and I don’t want a crappy break.”
“You can use my new motto.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes! Life stinks, but death is painful…so suck it up and move on,” Seth replied. He stood up and dropped the map (the one that couldn’t exist) into his trash can. He glanced back at Summer and smiled weakly. Ryan didn’t exist. Ryan…did…not…exist.
Maybe that should be his new motto.
Hell, maybe one day he’d actually believe it.
**
Ryan woke up, his heart thumping and sweat pouring down his forehead. He looked at the clock. 4:30 am. Sunday. He sat up in his bed, wide awake, sick to his stomach, all the while being cautious not to wake Theresa.
It had become habit for her to sneak into his room after her mother had gone to bed. Her mother kept hovering over the two of them day after day, wondering when they would get married and do this right. Do this right. Ha. Nothing felt right anymore. This wasn’t his life. He was just a guy stuck there, substituting for the person who belonged there.
Fucking Eddie had to turn out to be a basket case and Ryan had to be the one to step up and do the right thing…even if it was killing him. Because he grew up without a father and it was something he wouldn’t wish on any kid, especially one that might be his.
Ryan slipped out of bed and crept down the stairs, careful not to wake up the full house before they all rose for church in another hour or so. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. He was crazy, worried, filled with dread. His dream had felt so real.
Seth.
Something was going on there.
He could hear Theresa’s voice in the back of his mind, urging him to do what Ryan had wanted to do for so many days, “Call him. You know you want to, Ryan. Just call him already. He probably misses you as much as you miss him…or does the cool and aloof Ryan Atwood still refuse to admit that he cares for people?”
Ryan never did call. And not because he was aloof, as Theresa put it. He wasn’t like that anymore. He could admit that Seth, Kirsten, and Sandy were important to him. This was a pride thing. Seth mattered to him. Seth was more than a friend (he had plenty of those growing up), but not quite a brother, but Ryan was beginning to think that was a completely one-sided take on their relationship. Every time Ryan would pick up the phone, he’d remind himself that he had pride and that if Seth wanted to talk to him or wanted to visit him, he could’ve at any point over the past month. Seth hadn’t bothered and that was his choice. What the hell was Ryan supposed to do? Ryan had to accept that part of his life was over. Ryan was going to be a father and Seth Cohen could no longer be his primary thought, concern, or whatever the hell he was.
So how exactly did he find himself halfway to Newport before he realized he had no idea what he was doing? When he scribbled the note to Theresa, he had planned to drive around the neighborhood until the remnants of the nightmare dissipated. He hadn’t planned to turn onto the freeway or make his way back toward the life he could no longer enjoy.
He knew he should stop, turn the car around, and get back to his real life. Seth was a big boy. Seth could take care of himself. Well, Seth couldn’t half the time, but it wasn’t Ryan’s problem anymore. Seth didn’t want anything to do with him. All these thoughts blasting out of him until he had to crank the radio up to block out all his thoughts.
He wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop. He needed to go to Newport. It wasn’t like he would show up at the Cohen’s house that early in the morning. Then it became a sort of promise to himself. Okay, since he was in Newport, he might as well go down his old street. Okay, he would drive by the house and that would be the end. No one would be the wiser. Okay, he would park and sneak around back to see what they had done with the guest house in his absence. Okay, he would actually open the door and revisit his first real home.
And that’s when he saw him. Curled up in that ugly green and yellow afghan that Seth insisted made Ryan’s room look “homey” and fast asleep on the bed. Ryan didn’t know what to make of that. Why was Seth sleeping in the pool house? Had Sandy found another stray kid without a home to rescue? Did Seth have a new best friend-brother-whatever to spend all his time with? To tell really bad jokes to and concoct outrageous plans with.
A surge of something ran up Ryan’s back. Jealousy? He scoffed. Ryan Atwood did not get jealous, especially not of an imaginary kid who was spending time with Seth.
Ryan moved over closer to the bed. He had never really examined Seth before. Never really needed to or maybe it was that he was too afraid of getting caught or of what it would mean. Ryan liked girls. He loved girls and their curves and the way they walked into a room. But it was Seth that inundated his thoughts. When he thought of Newport or where his home was, four letters came to his mind: S-E-T-H. When he had dreams, they were about Seth. And when those dreams warped into something unpleasant and worrisome, it was Seth that pulled Ryan back. The idea that something wasn’t right with Seth was what sent Ryan’s life into a tailspin until he found himself right back where he started.
Ryan let out a relieved sigh. In his dream, Seth had been standing in front of Ryan, covered in blood until he disappeared. That didn’t appear to be the case (thank god) that morning. Seth’s skin was healthy and tan and he had the early signs of a five o’clock shadow (who knew Seth could grow facial hair?) as his chest rose and fell steadily. Seth was fine. It was Ryan that was cracking up, driving all that distance based on a bad dream.
He turned to leave and fell over a chair. Where the hell had that chair come from? Who put a chair in the middle of the fucking room? Didn’t they realize that it made sneaking out of a room a bit difficult when he brought furniture crashing to the ground?
Seth bolted up and squinted around the room. He was quiet for a long time. Ryan remained frozen on the ground as though he could will himself away out of sheer humiliation, but Seth hopped off the bed and stared bemusedly down at Ryan.
“Taken to cat burglary since last time I saw you?”
Ryan shrugged, “Whatever it takes to pay the bills, right?”
It was Seth’s turn to shrug. He rolled his eyes and pointed to the chair before replying, “Are you trying to end up on America’s Stupidest Criminals or what?”
“Huh?”
“Haven’t you learned anything from my family? If you’re going to commit to something, do it completely. You can’t go about robbing houses all willy nilly, Ryan.”
“Willy nilly?”
“You don’t rob people you know. I can identify you. I can see it now. ‘Son, can you give me a description of the guy that robbed you?’ and I’m forced to reply, ‘It was Ryan, officer.’ Do you see how sad that is? I mean, if you really need to rob people you know, wear a mask. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Thanks for the advice, Seth, but—“
“What are you doing here, Ryan?”
“Sandy and Kirsten said I was always welcome and…” Ryan’s voice trailed off and his eyes locked on Seth’s. They were different then he remembered. Harder to read. Ryan asked, “Do I need to have a reason to visit you guys?”
“No, but…you haven’t and…it’s like not even six, dude. Have you ever known my mother to be awake this early unless my aunt was forcing them to have their auras cleaned or something?”
Ryan kept telling himself to play it cool. Pretend like he had no idea. Play it cool.
He never could do that around Seth. He never felt he had to because Seth always looked at him with such adoration and awe that Ryan could say anything and not worry. Seth’s devotion never wavered. Well, not until Ryan announced he was leaving. Then Seth simply shut down and shut Ryan out in the process.
It wasn’t until that moment, standing there with so little space between them, that it hit Ryan. How much he missed Seth, how pissed off he was that Seth had turned his back on him when he needed a friend the most. Fuck, most of the guys he grew up with…they were friends, but he wouldn’t trust them to have his back. Seth…he used to think Seth would give up a kidney if Ryan asked and realizing that fondness was gone caused Ryan’s chest to pound.
“Ryan? Is everything okay? With Theresa and the baby?”
Play it cool. Play it cool. I am Ryan Atwood and I’m well-skilled at being detached.
“I missed you, Seth. I missed you and I had a horrible dream that something happened to you and I wanted, no needed, to make sure you were okay,” Ryan blurted out. His face turned seven different shades of red as Seth’s eyes widened and Seth stepped back. Literally moved away from him.
Ryan cleared his throat and said, “I’ve never counted on anyone the way that I counted on you, Seth, and you totally blew me off. I want to be pissed and to beat the crap out of you, but I miss you. I miss us.”
Seth shook his head as if his ears were waterlogged. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to find Marissa there (the actual intended for Ryan’s admission) or the crew from Candid Camera. There was nothing there. The room was empty except for the two of them and the little bit of light that filtered in from the full moon.
“I gotta go,” Ryan said, turning on his heels and rushing toward the door.
He had almost reached the door when Seth called out, “You’re always running off. It’s your great ammo.”
Ryan stopped and shut his eyes. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, what he was feeling, or if anything would ever make sense again. The logical part of his brain told him to keep going—get in the car, drive back to Chino, and forget this ever happened—but he wanted to indulge in the irrational part of his brain, the piece that was shouting for him to get whatever the hell this distance was between him and Seth worked out because he needed Seth in his life.
“I don’t know why you even came here, Ryan. Were you hoping I turned your room into a shrine or something? Loser Seth and his crazy attachment to me—“
“That’s not—“ his voice cracked. Words had a nasty habit of escaping him whenever he had something important to say.
“And I know what everyone says. That the only reason I wanted you to stick around was because you kept me from getting my ass kicked and people actually talked to me—“
“I never thought that.”
“Right. Whatever, man, it doesn’t matter.”
“We’re friends, Seth.”
“Were friends, you mean.”
“So we’re not anymore?”
“You haven’t exactly been beating down my door to hang out,” Seth replied. He stretched out his arms over his head and let out a loud yawn before directing his gaze back on Ryan. He inched toward him and went on, “I figured you had your real friends back.”
“For someone so fucking smart, you’re really clueless sometimes.”
“Huh?”
“You always said I was the first real friend you had,” Ryan paused. He clenched his hands into two small fists to stop them from shaking. He took a deep breath and went on, “You were mine too.”
“Please, Ryan. I’ve seen you in action, okay? Everyone loves you.”
“People—they don’t know me, Seth. Growing up I was always Trey’s younger brother and here…I was a freaking circus attraction. People weren’t interested in being my friend, they were simply intrigued by me. You were different. We understood each other. At least, I thought we did.”
“Then why did you leave?”
“I had to. Do you think I wanted to leave? I had a life here, Seth.”
“Marissa.”
“You.”
“Whatever.”
“What do I have to do to convince you that you matter to me? That you were the first person to have faith in me and that I miss it?” Ryan asked. He kicked his foot at an imaginary stone and paced the floor for a minute. He noticed Seth staring at him and before he knew what he was doing, that irrational part of his brain took control and he had closed the distance between the two of them, grabbed Seth, and kissed him.
It was a quick peck, a chaste kiss on the lips, but something changed rather quickly. Ryan would never be sure if it was him or Seth that initiated more, but hands roamed over each other and lips parted to allow for tongues. It was desperation and perfection. It was everything that movies led a person to believe a kiss should be.
Ryan pulled back and shuffled his feet. It wasn’t something he would ever have thought to do before. It wasn’t really something he ever thought he wanted for himself. But it was Seth and he wanted Seth. He probably always wanted Seth but was too dim or caught up in some drama with Marissa to notice. He decided that had to be it because that kiss had felt so natural to him.
Seth’s eyes landed on his and Ryan witnessed a very different side to Seth Cohen than he ever had before. There was a confidence, an almost strut, as Seth grabbed a fistful of Ryan’s white tee-shirt and kissed him. Seth’s teeth nipped at his bottom lip and all coherent thoughts floated away. Ryan was lost—in the moment, in a tangle of arms, in an overwhelming feeling of happiness—and he wanted it to last. He allowed his hands to roam up Seth’s back, slowly, cautiously. He was new at this, unaware of how to traverse another man’s body, but he gave his fingers free reign over Seth’s chest, up to his neck and throat, and finally digging into his soft curls as he increased the pressure of the kisses between the two of them.
Seth was the one to pull back this time and Ryan wondered if he had gone too far. That thought faded rather quickly when Seth grinned, that smirk that Ryan missed so much the past month, and said, “Wow.”
“What happened to the man of many words?”
“Stunned into silence. I think you broke me.”
“Is that good or bad?” Ryan asked nervously.
“Good. Definitely good…though a bit weird,” Seth replied. He met Ryan’s gaze and explained, “I mean, I liked it and that’s the weird part. I didn’t think that I was…or that you were…I pretty much convinced myself that I was insane.”
“Me too.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Did you really dream about me?”
“Yeah. I dream about you all the time.”
“I still dream about Wonder Woman,” Seth replied. He shrugged and with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, added, “Though there was one dream where Batman was getting a little frisky with my Robin…and he metamorphosed into you at one point.”
“You see me as Batman? It’s the brooding thing, isn’t it?”
Seth rolled his eyes, “That’s my subconscious. I would say you’re much more like The Punisher. Full of fury and misery and seeking out justice for the wronged.”
“You’ve put way too much thought into it,” Ryan said. He patted Seth’s cheek. So unlike him. He wasn’t the overly-affectionate, cutesy type. That was never him. But he couldn’t help himself now. He couldn’t bring himself to stop touching Seth in fear that he’d realize this was all a dream. He cleared his throat and asked, “What the hell does this mean?”
“I was gonna ask you that.”
“Me? Like I have any idea what the hell I’m doing—“
“I was planning to leave for Tahiti in a few days. Actually, I planned to go the night you left. I had to get away from all the memories, but Summer came by and…I dunno. I stuck around.”
“You’re going to leave?” Ryan replied, hoping he had heard wrong. But Seth nodded in confirmation and Ryan felt his stomach drop. Not only was it the most asinine plan he had ever heard—Seth would end up one of those cautionary tales for young sailors—but the distance between Chino and Newport was already too much for his liking.
“Well, I was.”
“Don’t go, Seth.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Don’t go.”
“But Theresa is still pregnant and you two are still—“
”We’re not together. I’m not in love with Theresa. I don’t want to be with her. I’m just trying to do right by her and the baby. You don’t know what it’s like to grow up without a dad, Seth. Your dad is great.”
“True.”
“But that doesn’t mean…I meant what I said when I made my decision to leave. We’ll still hang out.”
“We haven’t so far.”
“No, but that’s because I thought you hated me.”
“I did,” Seth replied. When Ryan winced against the veracity of the words, he quickly added, “But I think it was because I loved you too.”
“You love me?”
Seth’s cheeks flushed and he sighed, “Yeah, I do.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“You can’t leave then. And we’ll work something out. Because I need you, Seth. You know I’m not good with words or all this emotional crap, but…I need you,” Ryan said, placing both his hands on Seth’s chest.
Seth took his hands in his own and said, “Now you’re gonna make me change my motto. It was a good motto too.”
“You had a motto?”
“Everyone needs a good motto, Ryan.”
“What was it?”
“Life sucks, but death is painful…so suck it up and move on.”
“Interesting.”
“I thought it had a nice ring to it.”
“I guess.”
“And now I have to change it.”
“Why?”
Seth kissed him and whispered in his ear, “Because life doesn’t suck so much anymore.”
“Yeah…mine either,” Ryan replied. His lips traced over Seth’s and he pulled back to look at him, to fully embrace this new development, and added, “And I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I promise we’ll get through it together.”
Seth nodded and Ryan kissed him again. He had no plans to let go of this feeling or Seth. He meant what he had said. He didn’t know what would happen or how anyone would react to things, but Ryan realized he didn’t really care. Because Seth was back in his life and loved him.
For the first time in months, things were definitely looking up.
{Fin}
Author: TommyGirl
storydivagirlWritten For:
__mintyfresh - hope you like. I did my best to bring the Seth humor where I could.Summary: Set after season one finale. Seth and Ryan both come to realize that their relationship is more than friendship.
Characters: Seth/Ryan with some Summer for fun.
A/N: A happy ending was requested so I aimed to please. My first O.C. piece, so I hope it wasn't too terrible. Much love to my wonderful beta goddess
rachel_wilder. Feedback always appreciated.Seth decided what he needed was a motto of some sort—a simple saying that he could pull out of his verbal arsenal whenever he felt it necessary, something that reminded him of what the hell he was doing on this planet. It would have to be something like those little sayings on bumper stickers and tee-shirts; something cutesy yet sarcastic, something to live by. Maybe that (or a severe lacking of) was the reason he never had friends in the past and that the one friend he did have decided to move back to the fringes of society rather than be around him anymore. Maybe it was because he had no motto. Well, none that really made sense or didn’t invite scorn or looks of insanity (like the time his mantra was “Who needs real girls when Comic Girls are hotter?”) from other people.
Seth hovered by his window, offering his best imitation of stealth which resulted in him knocking the blinds off their rung and undoubtedly drawing attention to himself. He didn’t want Ryan to see him, didn’t want Ryan to pity the poor friendless idiot who couldn’t help but watch as his best friend drove back to his real life with a girl he didn’t even love. Seth went back and forth on that point. Ryan didn’t love her. He couldn’t love her, but he was leaving all the same. Seth wavered between utter devastation and a strange pride in Ryan for standing by Theresa until he finally decided that his best course of action was to pretend Ryan didn’t exist. Seth could pass it off as one long dream, an imaginary friend that came complete with invitations to parties and the girl of his dreams. The problem with that plan of action was that he wasn’t sure he could do that and remain in Newport. It would make him crazy. Well, crazier.
And that was when Seth decided what his motto was, his guiding reason for getting up in the morning and going on in his loserdom lifestyle: life stinks, but death is painful…so suck it up and move on. It seemed realistic enough. He would never be one of those depressed writer types like Hemingway—and not because Summer would never agree to be seen with a man in an overcoat—because he abhorred things like pain and blood, especially if it was his own. No, he liked his new motto. It had a certain joie d’ vive to it.
Seth stopped breathing for a second when he heard voices in the hall and the approach of footsteps. He jumped away from the window, deciding now was the perfect opportunity to employ his new Ryan-never-existed method of living. He ran across the hardwood floor and went to hop on the bed…but missed by about a foot and crashed down onto the floor.
“God. Are you okay?” a voice said from over him. Seth rolled over, trying not to wince in pain as he did so, and met Summer’s typical you’re-a-jackass gaze she frequently wore around him. She folded her arms and said, “The bed’s over there, Cohen.”
“Thank you. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a groan.
“Did you hurt yourself?” she asked, extending her hand to help him up.
He rolled his eyes, but took her hand all the same. Once he was on his feet, he rubbed his forehead and said, “Nah. Luckily, my face broke my fall.”
“It’s not gonna bruise, is it? The summer bash at the country club is coming up and I don’t want our pictures to look like you barely survived an ass kicking by a seven-year-old.”
Seth forced a frown and questioned, “You don’t think I could take a seven-year-old?”
“Cohen—“
“Because I could, you know. Well, if he was small for his age and had a bad leg.”
She giggled, rolled her eyes and then stood on her tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. That was when Seth knew his motto had promise. Because his life did suck, but if he were dead, he couldn’t kiss Summer and that seemed sick and wrong.
Almost as much as the idea of Ryan not being a part of his life did.
And there he was. Right back where he started, where he swore he wasn’t going to tread any longer.
“While it’s nice to see how concerned you are for me, I’m fine,” he replied. He refused to allow his eyes to land on the stupid map that Ryan bought him as a going away gift. Ryan didn’t exist and therefore the map didn’t exist. It was like The Matrix—there was no spoon. He glanced at Summer, forcing a smile, though he didn’t feel like smiling and all he wanted to do was curl up on his bed and plot out a quick escape with Captain Oats. He sat on the edge of his bed and said, “And for the record, as experienced as I am at getting my ass kicked, you don’t have to worry about bruising.”
She sat down next to him and took his hand. Seth knew she was trying to be supportive and help him through this, but right now it wasn’t helping. He couldn’t explain to her what it felt like to be all alone. Summer wouldn’t understand that. She was beautiful and popular and unstoppable. He was the opposite. He was the loser of Newport, friendless and lost and certain of only one thing—life sucks.
“I’m here, you know. You haven’t lost me.”
He tried not to think about what she was saying. Lost. It was all wrong. The connotation, the way she said it with a shrug as though he was overreacting. Ryan wasn’t lost. He was gone. He chose to leave and Seth knew where to find him. He wasn’t fucking lost. Lost would imply Ryan needed to be found. Seth’s stomach tightened and his throat closed up as he resisted the urge to scream this bit information out or pry his hand away from Summer’s. He didn’t need any more enemies so he forced a small laugh from the back of his throat. She would never get it and there was no use in trying to explain it.
He shrugged, “I know.”
“Cohen, you’re freaking me out. Ryan’s not dead.”
“I know,” he repeated. It was the only words he remembered. Him. Mr. Inane Babbler Dude couldn’t think of anything to say. This was pathetic, even for him.
But how was he supposed to make sense of this. He knew there was something going on, something he couldn’t explain away as Ryan being his best friend. Ryan was more than that to him, more like his...everything...and how did he tell his girlfriend that maybe all those times the jock gods of the school kicked his ass and swore “faggot” at him…maybe they were onto something and it took knowing Ryan, took Ryan choosing a life with Theresa, to make that clear to Seth.
Seth didn’t need anymore enemies. At the moment, Summer was his only friend, the only person he had left. And it wasn’t like Ryan felt anything for him. They weren’t even brothers. Seth was nothing, something that could easily be tossed aside for a mediocre life in Chino because…Ryan didn’t care.
Seth stared at the map and said, “I’m a loser, Summer.”
“Yes, but it’s like…part of your charm.”
Seth nodded. A smile formed of its own will and he replied, “Thank you. You always know how to make me feel better.”
Her hands ran through his hair and she rested her head on his shoulder. She sighed and said, “You need to go talk to him, Cohen.”
“What?”
“You didn’t say goodbye, did you? That’s why you’re moping around here like your puppy kicked the bucket?”
Seth’s eyes widened and he shrugged, “Sorry. Imagining Ryan transforming into the Shaggy Dog. Oddly, he still had an affinity for white tee-shirts.”
“You’re really weird sometimes.”
“Sometimes? It’s like you don’t know me at all, Summer.”
“Go visit Chino.”
“He left like a half hour ago. I’ll look desperate for companionship and I survived for a long time as a solo act. I just need to readjust for a bit,” Seth countered. He didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t visit Ryan. Not now, not ever, because there were so many things that could come falling out of Seth’s mouth and there was no way in hell he was going to do that.
“I’ll drive.”
“No.”
“You can apologize for moping and ignoring him since he announced he was leaving—“
“You’re starting to sound a lot like my mother and that disturbs me a great deal.”
“Stop being a chicken, Cohen.”
“Lovely. I always enjoy it when the grade school banter of ‘chicken’ and ‘cootie boy’ are used.”
“Cootie boy?”
“Melissa Henderson. Second grade. Long story. Very humiliating.”
“Whatever,” Summer replied. She glanced at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking, and added, “You can’t keep pretending he doesn’t exist or it will be a crappy summer break, Cohen, and I don’t want a crappy break.”
“You can use my new motto.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes! Life stinks, but death is painful…so suck it up and move on,” Seth replied. He stood up and dropped the map (the one that couldn’t exist) into his trash can. He glanced back at Summer and smiled weakly. Ryan didn’t exist. Ryan…did…not…exist.
Maybe that should be his new motto.
Hell, maybe one day he’d actually believe it.
**
Ryan woke up, his heart thumping and sweat pouring down his forehead. He looked at the clock. 4:30 am. Sunday. He sat up in his bed, wide awake, sick to his stomach, all the while being cautious not to wake Theresa.
It had become habit for her to sneak into his room after her mother had gone to bed. Her mother kept hovering over the two of them day after day, wondering when they would get married and do this right. Do this right. Ha. Nothing felt right anymore. This wasn’t his life. He was just a guy stuck there, substituting for the person who belonged there.
Fucking Eddie had to turn out to be a basket case and Ryan had to be the one to step up and do the right thing…even if it was killing him. Because he grew up without a father and it was something he wouldn’t wish on any kid, especially one that might be his.
Ryan slipped out of bed and crept down the stairs, careful not to wake up the full house before they all rose for church in another hour or so. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. He was crazy, worried, filled with dread. His dream had felt so real.
Seth.
Something was going on there.
He could hear Theresa’s voice in the back of his mind, urging him to do what Ryan had wanted to do for so many days, “Call him. You know you want to, Ryan. Just call him already. He probably misses you as much as you miss him…or does the cool and aloof Ryan Atwood still refuse to admit that he cares for people?”
Ryan never did call. And not because he was aloof, as Theresa put it. He wasn’t like that anymore. He could admit that Seth, Kirsten, and Sandy were important to him. This was a pride thing. Seth mattered to him. Seth was more than a friend (he had plenty of those growing up), but not quite a brother, but Ryan was beginning to think that was a completely one-sided take on their relationship. Every time Ryan would pick up the phone, he’d remind himself that he had pride and that if Seth wanted to talk to him or wanted to visit him, he could’ve at any point over the past month. Seth hadn’t bothered and that was his choice. What the hell was Ryan supposed to do? Ryan had to accept that part of his life was over. Ryan was going to be a father and Seth Cohen could no longer be his primary thought, concern, or whatever the hell he was.
So how exactly did he find himself halfway to Newport before he realized he had no idea what he was doing? When he scribbled the note to Theresa, he had planned to drive around the neighborhood until the remnants of the nightmare dissipated. He hadn’t planned to turn onto the freeway or make his way back toward the life he could no longer enjoy.
He knew he should stop, turn the car around, and get back to his real life. Seth was a big boy. Seth could take care of himself. Well, Seth couldn’t half the time, but it wasn’t Ryan’s problem anymore. Seth didn’t want anything to do with him. All these thoughts blasting out of him until he had to crank the radio up to block out all his thoughts.
He wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop. He needed to go to Newport. It wasn’t like he would show up at the Cohen’s house that early in the morning. Then it became a sort of promise to himself. Okay, since he was in Newport, he might as well go down his old street. Okay, he would drive by the house and that would be the end. No one would be the wiser. Okay, he would park and sneak around back to see what they had done with the guest house in his absence. Okay, he would actually open the door and revisit his first real home.
And that’s when he saw him. Curled up in that ugly green and yellow afghan that Seth insisted made Ryan’s room look “homey” and fast asleep on the bed. Ryan didn’t know what to make of that. Why was Seth sleeping in the pool house? Had Sandy found another stray kid without a home to rescue? Did Seth have a new best friend-brother-whatever to spend all his time with? To tell really bad jokes to and concoct outrageous plans with.
A surge of something ran up Ryan’s back. Jealousy? He scoffed. Ryan Atwood did not get jealous, especially not of an imaginary kid who was spending time with Seth.
Ryan moved over closer to the bed. He had never really examined Seth before. Never really needed to or maybe it was that he was too afraid of getting caught or of what it would mean. Ryan liked girls. He loved girls and their curves and the way they walked into a room. But it was Seth that inundated his thoughts. When he thought of Newport or where his home was, four letters came to his mind: S-E-T-H. When he had dreams, they were about Seth. And when those dreams warped into something unpleasant and worrisome, it was Seth that pulled Ryan back. The idea that something wasn’t right with Seth was what sent Ryan’s life into a tailspin until he found himself right back where he started.
Ryan let out a relieved sigh. In his dream, Seth had been standing in front of Ryan, covered in blood until he disappeared. That didn’t appear to be the case (thank god) that morning. Seth’s skin was healthy and tan and he had the early signs of a five o’clock shadow (who knew Seth could grow facial hair?) as his chest rose and fell steadily. Seth was fine. It was Ryan that was cracking up, driving all that distance based on a bad dream.
He turned to leave and fell over a chair. Where the hell had that chair come from? Who put a chair in the middle of the fucking room? Didn’t they realize that it made sneaking out of a room a bit difficult when he brought furniture crashing to the ground?
Seth bolted up and squinted around the room. He was quiet for a long time. Ryan remained frozen on the ground as though he could will himself away out of sheer humiliation, but Seth hopped off the bed and stared bemusedly down at Ryan.
“Taken to cat burglary since last time I saw you?”
Ryan shrugged, “Whatever it takes to pay the bills, right?”
It was Seth’s turn to shrug. He rolled his eyes and pointed to the chair before replying, “Are you trying to end up on America’s Stupidest Criminals or what?”
“Huh?”
“Haven’t you learned anything from my family? If you’re going to commit to something, do it completely. You can’t go about robbing houses all willy nilly, Ryan.”
“Willy nilly?”
“You don’t rob people you know. I can identify you. I can see it now. ‘Son, can you give me a description of the guy that robbed you?’ and I’m forced to reply, ‘It was Ryan, officer.’ Do you see how sad that is? I mean, if you really need to rob people you know, wear a mask. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Thanks for the advice, Seth, but—“
“What are you doing here, Ryan?”
“Sandy and Kirsten said I was always welcome and…” Ryan’s voice trailed off and his eyes locked on Seth’s. They were different then he remembered. Harder to read. Ryan asked, “Do I need to have a reason to visit you guys?”
“No, but…you haven’t and…it’s like not even six, dude. Have you ever known my mother to be awake this early unless my aunt was forcing them to have their auras cleaned or something?”
Ryan kept telling himself to play it cool. Pretend like he had no idea. Play it cool.
He never could do that around Seth. He never felt he had to because Seth always looked at him with such adoration and awe that Ryan could say anything and not worry. Seth’s devotion never wavered. Well, not until Ryan announced he was leaving. Then Seth simply shut down and shut Ryan out in the process.
It wasn’t until that moment, standing there with so little space between them, that it hit Ryan. How much he missed Seth, how pissed off he was that Seth had turned his back on him when he needed a friend the most. Fuck, most of the guys he grew up with…they were friends, but he wouldn’t trust them to have his back. Seth…he used to think Seth would give up a kidney if Ryan asked and realizing that fondness was gone caused Ryan’s chest to pound.
“Ryan? Is everything okay? With Theresa and the baby?”
Play it cool. Play it cool. I am Ryan Atwood and I’m well-skilled at being detached.
“I missed you, Seth. I missed you and I had a horrible dream that something happened to you and I wanted, no needed, to make sure you were okay,” Ryan blurted out. His face turned seven different shades of red as Seth’s eyes widened and Seth stepped back. Literally moved away from him.
Ryan cleared his throat and said, “I’ve never counted on anyone the way that I counted on you, Seth, and you totally blew me off. I want to be pissed and to beat the crap out of you, but I miss you. I miss us.”
Seth shook his head as if his ears were waterlogged. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to find Marissa there (the actual intended for Ryan’s admission) or the crew from Candid Camera. There was nothing there. The room was empty except for the two of them and the little bit of light that filtered in from the full moon.
“I gotta go,” Ryan said, turning on his heels and rushing toward the door.
He had almost reached the door when Seth called out, “You’re always running off. It’s your great ammo.”
Ryan stopped and shut his eyes. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, what he was feeling, or if anything would ever make sense again. The logical part of his brain told him to keep going—get in the car, drive back to Chino, and forget this ever happened—but he wanted to indulge in the irrational part of his brain, the piece that was shouting for him to get whatever the hell this distance was between him and Seth worked out because he needed Seth in his life.
“I don’t know why you even came here, Ryan. Were you hoping I turned your room into a shrine or something? Loser Seth and his crazy attachment to me—“
“That’s not—“ his voice cracked. Words had a nasty habit of escaping him whenever he had something important to say.
“And I know what everyone says. That the only reason I wanted you to stick around was because you kept me from getting my ass kicked and people actually talked to me—“
“I never thought that.”
“Right. Whatever, man, it doesn’t matter.”
“We’re friends, Seth.”
“Were friends, you mean.”
“So we’re not anymore?”
“You haven’t exactly been beating down my door to hang out,” Seth replied. He stretched out his arms over his head and let out a loud yawn before directing his gaze back on Ryan. He inched toward him and went on, “I figured you had your real friends back.”
“For someone so fucking smart, you’re really clueless sometimes.”
“Huh?”
“You always said I was the first real friend you had,” Ryan paused. He clenched his hands into two small fists to stop them from shaking. He took a deep breath and went on, “You were mine too.”
“Please, Ryan. I’ve seen you in action, okay? Everyone loves you.”
“People—they don’t know me, Seth. Growing up I was always Trey’s younger brother and here…I was a freaking circus attraction. People weren’t interested in being my friend, they were simply intrigued by me. You were different. We understood each other. At least, I thought we did.”
“Then why did you leave?”
“I had to. Do you think I wanted to leave? I had a life here, Seth.”
“Marissa.”
“You.”
“Whatever.”
“What do I have to do to convince you that you matter to me? That you were the first person to have faith in me and that I miss it?” Ryan asked. He kicked his foot at an imaginary stone and paced the floor for a minute. He noticed Seth staring at him and before he knew what he was doing, that irrational part of his brain took control and he had closed the distance between the two of them, grabbed Seth, and kissed him.
It was a quick peck, a chaste kiss on the lips, but something changed rather quickly. Ryan would never be sure if it was him or Seth that initiated more, but hands roamed over each other and lips parted to allow for tongues. It was desperation and perfection. It was everything that movies led a person to believe a kiss should be.
Ryan pulled back and shuffled his feet. It wasn’t something he would ever have thought to do before. It wasn’t really something he ever thought he wanted for himself. But it was Seth and he wanted Seth. He probably always wanted Seth but was too dim or caught up in some drama with Marissa to notice. He decided that had to be it because that kiss had felt so natural to him.
Seth’s eyes landed on his and Ryan witnessed a very different side to Seth Cohen than he ever had before. There was a confidence, an almost strut, as Seth grabbed a fistful of Ryan’s white tee-shirt and kissed him. Seth’s teeth nipped at his bottom lip and all coherent thoughts floated away. Ryan was lost—in the moment, in a tangle of arms, in an overwhelming feeling of happiness—and he wanted it to last. He allowed his hands to roam up Seth’s back, slowly, cautiously. He was new at this, unaware of how to traverse another man’s body, but he gave his fingers free reign over Seth’s chest, up to his neck and throat, and finally digging into his soft curls as he increased the pressure of the kisses between the two of them.
Seth was the one to pull back this time and Ryan wondered if he had gone too far. That thought faded rather quickly when Seth grinned, that smirk that Ryan missed so much the past month, and said, “Wow.”
“What happened to the man of many words?”
“Stunned into silence. I think you broke me.”
“Is that good or bad?” Ryan asked nervously.
“Good. Definitely good…though a bit weird,” Seth replied. He met Ryan’s gaze and explained, “I mean, I liked it and that’s the weird part. I didn’t think that I was…or that you were…I pretty much convinced myself that I was insane.”
“Me too.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Did you really dream about me?”
“Yeah. I dream about you all the time.”
“I still dream about Wonder Woman,” Seth replied. He shrugged and with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, added, “Though there was one dream where Batman was getting a little frisky with my Robin…and he metamorphosed into you at one point.”
“You see me as Batman? It’s the brooding thing, isn’t it?”
Seth rolled his eyes, “That’s my subconscious. I would say you’re much more like The Punisher. Full of fury and misery and seeking out justice for the wronged.”
“You’ve put way too much thought into it,” Ryan said. He patted Seth’s cheek. So unlike him. He wasn’t the overly-affectionate, cutesy type. That was never him. But he couldn’t help himself now. He couldn’t bring himself to stop touching Seth in fear that he’d realize this was all a dream. He cleared his throat and asked, “What the hell does this mean?”
“I was gonna ask you that.”
“Me? Like I have any idea what the hell I’m doing—“
“I was planning to leave for Tahiti in a few days. Actually, I planned to go the night you left. I had to get away from all the memories, but Summer came by and…I dunno. I stuck around.”
“You’re going to leave?” Ryan replied, hoping he had heard wrong. But Seth nodded in confirmation and Ryan felt his stomach drop. Not only was it the most asinine plan he had ever heard—Seth would end up one of those cautionary tales for young sailors—but the distance between Chino and Newport was already too much for his liking.
“Well, I was.”
“Don’t go, Seth.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Don’t go.”
“But Theresa is still pregnant and you two are still—“
”We’re not together. I’m not in love with Theresa. I don’t want to be with her. I’m just trying to do right by her and the baby. You don’t know what it’s like to grow up without a dad, Seth. Your dad is great.”
“True.”
“But that doesn’t mean…I meant what I said when I made my decision to leave. We’ll still hang out.”
“We haven’t so far.”
“No, but that’s because I thought you hated me.”
“I did,” Seth replied. When Ryan winced against the veracity of the words, he quickly added, “But I think it was because I loved you too.”
“You love me?”
Seth’s cheeks flushed and he sighed, “Yeah, I do.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“You can’t leave then. And we’ll work something out. Because I need you, Seth. You know I’m not good with words or all this emotional crap, but…I need you,” Ryan said, placing both his hands on Seth’s chest.
Seth took his hands in his own and said, “Now you’re gonna make me change my motto. It was a good motto too.”
“You had a motto?”
“Everyone needs a good motto, Ryan.”
“What was it?”
“Life sucks, but death is painful…so suck it up and move on.”
“Interesting.”
“I thought it had a nice ring to it.”
“I guess.”
“And now I have to change it.”
“Why?”
Seth kissed him and whispered in his ear, “Because life doesn’t suck so much anymore.”
“Yeah…mine either,” Ryan replied. His lips traced over Seth’s and he pulled back to look at him, to fully embrace this new development, and added, “And I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I promise we’ll get through it together.”
Seth nodded and Ryan kissed him again. He had no plans to let go of this feeling or Seth. He meant what he had said. He didn’t know what would happen or how anyone would react to things, but Ryan realized he didn’t really care. Because Seth was back in his life and loved him.
For the first time in months, things were definitely looking up.
{Fin}
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no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 12:44 am (UTC)Oooh speaking of liking diff guys, hun, have you read the new evanovich?
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Date: 2004-07-19 06:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 08:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 03:54 pm (UTC)It means that you always like those machismo brooder types who are really big babies (ala Joe Morelli). Mwah.
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Date: 2004-07-22 10:32 pm (UTC)And Joe, he's hot and just, well hot!