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hackthis_archiveToday is the end of hiatus. I must celebrate.
Nine parts I said and nine parts it is.
Telegraph Avenue IX: Everything in its Right Place
Seth didn’t consider himself much of a deep thinker, not unless he was forced into it by being caught cheating on his boyfriend with his best friend. Nevertheless, he realized something rather profound when he opened the door to his apartment and found Ryan sprawled on the sofa. The reason people found stuff in the last place they looked was because they stopped looking once they’d found it.
He didn’t quite understand the entire thought at the time, but it made vague sense in the way most philosophy related things did. Maybe he’d ask Jamie when he ran into him again, after all the campus wasn’t really that big, no matter how well some people managed to hide.
He entered the apartment slowly, trying to gauge the situation as Ryan considered him warily. The guy from Jurassic Park popped into Seth’s head reminding him that moving fast was a bad, bad thing.
Ryan was stretched out in a tee shirt and jeans, which was his nod to the chilly Northern California weather. His hair was damp and he wore gray socks, which had once been white.
What Seth noticed more than anything, though, was the way he white-knuckled the remote control in his hand.
He hadn’t thrown anything before, but maybe Jamie’s psychic skills were right. Maybe this was about to get really ugly. As far as Seth knew Ryan wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless it played for the water polo team or went by the name of Luke, but there was a first time for everything. Like dry humping against a brick wall in the city.
Seth left his hand on the doorknob and rather than shutting the door behind him, left it open, pushing it against the wall and flattening himself against the battered wood surface.
Ryan lifted up the remote up, and Seth’s brain began to hurt.
“As a fellow samurai, I should probably be dignified about this, but if you’re going to throw the remote at me, could you not aim for my head, because the one brain cell I have left is already calling in the union for overtime,” he quipped lamely.
Ryan didn’t say anything, but he pointed the remote at the television, and Seth heard the deliberate click of the unit shutting down. Oh.
He closed his eyes and banged his head against the door loudly. It hurt.
“I may be the king of avoidance, but you’re totally giving me a run for my money. I get the point though, I could leave if you want, or I could wander up and down Shattuck naked, wearing a sign announcing how badly I fucked up. Your pick,” he blathered on, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
There were a lot of things Seth could theoretically take: dumpage, rejection, grounding.
Seeing Ryan disappointed in him was not one of them.
With his eyes closed, Seth’s senses should have been heightened considerably, but between his heart pounding in his ears and his damp hands slipping on the doorknob, he couldn’t really focus on what Ryan might be doing. He just prayed it didn’t have to do with packing and moving out.
He flinched noticeably when the floorboards creaked. He cracked one eye open and almost pissed himself when he realized Ryan was right in his face.
“If you’re going to hit me, that’s cool. You have every right to be mad; I know this. I am one with having fucked-up,” he paused. “Could you just warn me first so I don‘t scream like a girl?”
Ryan had dark circles under his eyes, and his sigh made Seth‘s stomach hurt. “Shut the door, Seth.”
Seth’s other eye opened in shock.
He nodded dumbly, stumbling slightly as he tried to shut the door while still in front of it.
After the door snicked shut, Seth looked back at Ryan expectantly as though he weren’t a twenty year-old man who at least knew how to tie his own shoes.
“Dude, you know, if you’re watching TV, I can go -- go…” Seth’s sentence trailed off as he realized he had plenty of places he could go, but no place else he wanted to be. He’d said he was going to resolve shit today, and he was going to resolve something, even if it killed him.
Or killed the thing most important to him.
“I don’t want to go anywhere else,” he corrected defiantly.
Ryan shrugged. “It’s your place, too,” he said, studying Seth for several seconds before turning away.
Seth’s heart went from overdrive to dead in the water. He tried to speak and found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth
He watched as Ryan went back over to the sofa and dropped back down gracefully. Instead of picking up the remote though, he picked up a copy of Catch-22 that Seth had been reading for class and thumbed through it idly.
“I need – we need – I think we should talk,” Seth said finally.
He flinched again when Ryan tossed the book back on the coffee table with a thump. “*Talk*,” he said, shifting around on the sofa until he was pressed firmly in the corner furthest away from Seth.
“What would you like to talk about, Seth? Jamie? Your lying? That fact that you used me to cheat on your boyfriend? Pick one.”
Seth sighed deeply and rubbed his fingers through his hair. Now he understood why people kept talking about going uphill in both directions. There was no easy way to have this conversation, and if he’d thought Ryan was going to be easy on him just because he’d been dumped, he was obviously really really stupid. Not that Ryan knew he’d been dumped. Not that Ryan was probably going to care anymore. What was that saying about not shitting where you slept? Oh, don’t do it.
Seth took a step towards the sofa, cautiously, sure at any moment that Ryan was going to walk out or yell again or do something that would leave Seth even more scarred for life and his parents knee deep in therapy bills.
Ryan didn’t say anything, but the tilt of his chin was defiant. Clearly Seth was going to have to drop to his knees and beg. He was not above that. Instead he touched the arm of the sofa gingerly, as though it were an enemy terrain full of landmines and quicksand, and swallowed.
He could barely breathe for the lump in his throat. It felt more like an egg.
“I’m not seeing Jamie anymore,” he rasped out.
It felt weird to say it; that he wasn’t with Jamie any more. He hadn’t even really thought about them as together in the first place, but then he’d gone all big pimpin’, and then they were over, and it hurt. Not that Ryan probably gave a flying fuck.
Seth would’ve sworn that Ryan snorted, but since his eyes were firmly on the mustard and burgundy plaid weave, he couldn’t be certain. His racing heartbeat kept drowning a lot of things out.
“He, uh, he dumped me.” He picked at the coarse threads of the sofa fabric and scuffed the floor with the toe of his right sneaker.
“Can you blame him?” Ryan’s incredulous tone came across loud and clear.
“No,” Seth admitted, finally looking at Ryan. “I don’t. I mean if public flogging was still all the rage, I‘d probably be due for my forty licks or whatever.”
Ryan was silent, but his stare made Seth’s brain ache, and instead Seth focused on his bedroom door just over Ryan’s left shoulder. It would be so much easier to run. It always was. But that had gotten him nowhere.
Pride? What pride?
“I know I messed up like Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake,” he began, glancing around the apartment. “I know I should’ve said something about Jamie, and that I shouldn’t have let you think I wasn’t seeing anybody, but dude, I didn’t even know you were interested. Don’t you think if I had known I would’ve shown up for our date with chocolates and flowers and very single?”
“I don’t know what you would have done.” Ryan’s words hurt, and Seth’s fingers began yanking at the weave of the sofa violently.
“What’s *that* supposed to mean?”
“It means that I thought I knew you,” Ryan said. “I thought we were friends and that I could trust you, but you lied to me.”
Seth yanked so hard at a mustard thread that it ripped out, and he was left with a little tuft of fiber. He looked up at Ryan in shock. “How could you think that we aren’t friends? I mean apart from the obvious that I didn’t tell you I was gay thing, but it’s not like you told me you were even interested. I’ve been all Big Gay Crush about you for years, and all you’ve ever seen is Marissa.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ryan shot back. “You think this is about *her*? From the moment I met you all you’ve done is talk about girls, and now you’re angry with me for trying to follow the status quo that *you* set?”
Seth’s eyes rolled in his head. “You’ve always been about Marissa, how the hell was I supposed to know you liked me?”
“Everybody knows I like you Seth.” Ryan sat up rigidly. “Everybody except *you*.”
Seth’s mouth dropped open and nothing came out. He thought about Erika and Tara and Summer, and even Jamie. People had made *bets*. Where the hell had he been when all this was going on? Oh, in the closet, right. Why was he always the last one to know?
“It doesn’t matter if everybody else knew,” he explained. “I didn’t know. I may have verbal skills like Eminem on speed, but I’m not all intuitive like *some* people. I need to be told when the hell my best friend has feelings for me.”
Ryan shook his head. “It’s not my job to write you an essay, if you can’t tell that you’re the only person I go out of my way to spend time with.”
It hurt a lot when Seth bit his tongue. Plus, it made it hard for him to interrupt.
“It’s not as though I would have objected if you’d told me about Jamie, but you had to go and hide it. You lied to me and you lied to him. Are you really surprised he dumped you?” Ryan’s tone was so harsh that Seth began to feel queasy, again, and he grabbed the sofa for support. It was like when he’d broken his arm while skateboarding.
He was sorry, but it wasn’t as though he hadn’t suffered. He could supply the cross if Ryan wanted to crucify him, but that totally wasn’t going to solve anything.
Ryan rubbed his hand over his mouth and sighed.
“I fucked up, man, I know I did, and I‘m sorry. You‘ll never know how sorry I am. I even cleaned,” Seth said, breaking the silence.
Ryan was incredulous. “Do you think *cleaning* is going to make this better?”
“You’re not listening to me,” Seth interjected, “I’m trying to explain to you why I couldn’t wrap myself in a rainbow flag and streak around the apartment until you got the message.”
“You’ve had all the chances in the world to talk to me, why the hell should I listen to you now?”
Ryan got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen. There was the clattering of cupboards opening and muffled cursing. The door of the refrigerator opened and closed, twice.
Seth looked around the tidy apartment, picked at the arm of the sofa, and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do now. A nap seemed like a good idea. So did locking himself in the bathroom. Clearly one Oprah session per day was his limit.
“Where the hell is all the beer?” Ryan asked, ducking his head around the corner.
“I drank it.”
Ryan stared. “You *drank* half a case of Beast?”
“I was waiting for you to come home, man,” Seth shrugged. “It was a long wait.”
Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “You waited up?”
“Both nights. I don’t recommend sleeping on the floor by the door. It gives you a wicked crick in the neck.”
Ryan blinked. “You slept on the floor and drank all the beer?”
“I’d’ve made a great fraternity brother,” Seth quipped. “Or not. Most definitely not.”
Ryan was silent.
Seth stuck his hands in his pockets. If he kept picking at the sofa they’d have nothing but a frame by the time the year was over.
“Why did you do this?” Ryan asked.
His plaintive expression was clear, even to Seth, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before he answered. There were a lot of interpretations to that question, and rather than picking just one, Seth went for the “all of the above” option.
It wasn’t like there was anything left to lose.
“Because you were always working, and I was fucking lonely, and Jamie made it clear that he liked me, and I needed that. Because I’ve had a crush on you since you interrupted my quality Playstation time wearing one of those goddamn look-at-how-hot-I-am wifebeaters. Because everyone seems to know, but me, that no matter who else I date, you’re the guy I want to be with. Hell, even I realized it too, even if I was too late.”
Ryan slumped against the wall and rubbed his eyes. He looked ready to collapse, and Seth wondered where the hell he’d been sleeping for the last two nights.
Ryan’s head tilted downwards as though he were speaking to his feet. “All you had to do was say something.”
“You could’ve said something, too,” Seth pointed out.
Ryan was quiet, but when he looked up Seth felt like ripping out his own heart and offering it to him. A little Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom never hurt anybody.
“It could’ve been totally different,” Ryan said finally.
“Maybe, but that’s not now.”
Ryan stared. Yeah, Seth didn’t know when he’d become so jaded either.
He blinked and watched as Ryan slid down the wall and sprawled his legs out on the floor. After a beat, Seth stepped from behind the sofa and sat on the floor between the sofa and Ryan.
The distance between them was negligible, but Seth felt as though it might as well have been an entire continent. Even if Ryan hadn’t gone to Boston to get Marissa back, he might as well have been in Massachusetts anyway.
“You know what it‘s like when nobody’s ever wanted you and then somebody does?”
Seth held up his hand to stop Ryan’s answer. “I know you know what I mean, but this is like, it’s different. Okay, yes, I’m that spoiled rich kid that you’ve always hated, but I never asked for that, and then you came along it was like… like *dude*. You were this guy who didn’t care that I was this crazy comic book geek. Who I was or what I had didn’t really matter. I was cool with you, and we were cool. It was like you were Batman and I was Robin. I could do anything with you and it was *us*, and it didn’t matter that I was the sidekick and not Bruce Wayne from Chino. And then there was Marissa and Summer, and it was like I had my own comic book, like Nightwing. But you know how Batman and Robin, the real one - not Tim, are always better *together*? We’re like that, and I’d do anything to make you happy; don’t you get that by now?”
Ryan might have snorted or even smiled, but if he did, Seth missed it. He was far too busy mentally castrating himself in a voice that sounded like Alfred, the loyal butler.
A whole new kind of desperation was welling up inside of him that he couldn’t remember being there before. He finally understood what everyone else had been seeing. It wasn’t blind adoration, it was loyalty and devotion and all the stuff that he’d thought he’d never find with anybody.
No wonder everybody thought he was crazy. He was crazy -- about Ryan. Even more so than he’d ever thought. And yet, he still couldn’t quite explain it properly.
He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Ryan because he would probably still be disgusted or confused or angry or hurt or whatever. Flying home for Thanksgiving was going to be a disaster, but if Seth started hitchhiking today, there was every chance he could reach Newport by the following month.
Seth sighed again when he realized he’d tangled his hands in the hem of his tee. Eventually he started talking again, babbling helplessly as he tried to extract himself from the mess he’d made.
“I know I lied. I know I hurt you, but every time you decided you’d rather study to maintain your 4.0 hurt *me*. Jamie made time for me; I needed that. It was like I was living with you, but you weren’t even *here*. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have friends, or whatever, but dude, shouldn’t I see more of you post-Marissa instead of less?”
“Seth,” Ryan began, obviously frustrated. “I told you, I have to do this. I need this scholarship.”
Seth’s fingers ripped the hem of his shirt as his head snapped up.
“No! You don’t!” he hollered back. “I keep trying to tell you that you don’t, but you won’t fucking listen to me!”
“I’m not here to be yelled at,” Ryan warned. “This is not about you.”
“Of course it’s about me,” Seth snorted. “It’s about us. It’s always about us. Didn’t you listen to anything I said the other night? All these other people, they don’t matter, at the end of the day it’s always just going to be about me and you.”
Seth gestured between then several times, ignoring a strange sense of deja vu.
“You stood up for me when you didn’t even know me. Dude, you fought the entire water polo team for me. I remember the day you left and I hugged you goodbye, not my most manly moment, but whatever. And then you were gone, and I’m pretty sure I would’ve driven to Chino every weekend to see you, but then you were back. Then I thought you were leaving again to go to Austin, only you didn’t. And then there was Marissa and now there’s school and every time I think I have you I lose you to something else.”
Ryan banged his head against the wall in aggravation and Seth winced.
“Where exactly do you think I’m going?” he asked. “Your parents are my guardians, even though I’m legal now. I’m in school. We live together. Why do you keep thinking I’m trying to leave you?”
“Because nobody wants to be with me,” Seth said sadly.
“*What*?” Ryan groaned and slumped all the way onto the floor. Seth folded his legs so that Ryan could splay out his arms. “Everybody wants to be with you, Seth, that’s the whole fucking problem.”
“But I don’t want to be with everybody,” Seth protested.
“What about Jamie?’
“Even he knows I want to be with you.”
Ryan exhaled sharply. “Because you cheated on him with me.”
“No,” Seth sighed. “Because all I ever did was talk about you.”
They were quiet for several seconds.
Seth could feel the sun coming through the window and beating on his back, except he wasn’t warm. He felt cold. And alone.
Outside he heard some girl yelling at someone. The building rattled when the front door closed with a slam and heavy footsteps ran up the stairs. The door across the hall slammed shut, and Seth figured it had to be somewhere close to 4:20.
Ryan’s voice projected from where he lay. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“But you did.”
Seth sighed, again. He needed to get some sleep. “I fucked up, dude. I can apologize forever, but if you’re not going to forgive me then it’s kind of pointless.”
He was startled when Ryan got to his feet. He towered over Seth considerably, and Seth bit his lip nervously.
What kind of dumbass made ultimatums after he’d got caught cheating? The Seth Cohen kind of dumbass.
“I don’t know,” Ryan said, and for the second time in as many days, Ryan walked away from him.
This time he was only closing his bedroom door, but Seth didn’t see it as much of an improvement.
Clearly college was not about academics, but about alcohol and angst.
They needed to put that disclaimer in the brochure.
*
Life on eggshells wasn’t something that Seth was particularly accustomed to. Normally he just snarked until he felt better and that was it, but for Ryan he was willing to try anything once.
Over the next few days, things went back to a strange kind of normalcy that only they could understand. Ryan went back to sleeping in his bed, and Seth went back to skipping the occasional class. Seth avoided making eye contact with any boy he thought might be attractive, and Ryan kept studying himself into the ground.
On the weekend they sat around the house watching television, but didn’t really say much. Their life-altering conversations centered around pizza or Chinese for delivery and LOTR or Star Wars for the night time entertainment.
On Sunday morning, Ryan cooked breakfast and left enough on the stove for Seth. When he left the house, Seth sat around wondering how much longer he could take the strain. They lived together, but barely talked, and even when they sat next to each other on the sofa, Seth felt as though Ryan was hundreds of miles away.
In summation, the whole thing sucked a big one.
But it was what Ryan wanted. At least Seth thought it was, and he really didn’t think he had the right to demand anything from anybody without being strung upside down by his toes.
So life went on like this for one week. And then another week. And then it was the week before Thanksgiving, and they were going to fly home in a few days, and Seth never thought he’d look forward to seeing Newport so much in his entire life. At the moment, it ranked up there with blowjobs and other stuff that he couldn’t think of at the time. The weather in Berkeley was bringing new meaning to the word “craptastic” and at home Seth could go sailing. He could be alone without feeling as though it were being forced on him as punishment.
Maybe things would be different at home. Maybe not.
The Thursday before Thanksgiving, Seth dashed into the Amoeba on Telegraph after his 20th Century Lit class.
He hadn’t planned on buying anything, but the Flaming Lips had a new LP that might’ve been calling to him all day, and his level of resistance was notoriously low.
He’d actually been thinking about going to UC Electronics and seeing if Ryan wanted to catch the midnight screening of 28 Days Later at the student union. It was going to have all three endings, and Seth wasn’t sure he could take another night cooped up in the apartment waiting for the axe to drop. He was kind of on the fence about asking Ryan to do anything, since every time to they were together Seth wanted to wrap his arms around Ryan’s ankles and beg for forgiveness, but maybe if they went somewhere together, the strain wouldn’t seem as bad.
He would even put on a clean shirt.
As usual there was a small congestion of people by the front door, selling CDs, toting crates of vinyl and just milling around. Seth pushed through and paused by the used hip-hop section. He wasn’t a huge rap fan, but they were selling K-os and Talib Kweli for $9.99, and Seth was not about to pass by a good deal. He picked up Jay-Z’s The Black LP and the latest Jurassic 5, and was moving down the line towards the dreaded Techno section, when he heard a laugh that made his stomach tighten.
He lifted his head and blinked several times, just to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was. It was more than remotely possible that he was hallucinating after pulling that all-nighter to write his paper on The Color Purple.
Then again, maybe not.
After all, Jamie wearing an army green hat like Fidel Castro and a dark blue turtleneck was still the same Jamie. He still had the same bright blue eyes and wry grin when he was happy. And even if he had Calvin-Klein-Model-To-Be Ian rubbing the back of his neck and giving him a pseudo-massage, that didn’t mean Seth was hallucinating it.
Seth’s subconscious was already bitter, but there was no way it would’ve gone this far overboard.
The plastic cases slipped from Seth’s grasp, and made a muted clunking sound when they fell on top of the rows of Various Hip-Hop releases. For a second, he actually contemplated going over and saying hi, but that just seemed stupid and pointlessly masochistic.
It was obvious that Jamie was happy without him. It was also obvious that Seth still cared for him more than he’d thought.
When Ian kissed the back of Jamie’s neck, Seth’s stomach curled, and he stepped backwards abruptly, bumping into someone behind him. He offered a few random apologies and left the store in a hurry.
Of course he wanted Jamie to be happy. He deserved to be, it just felt strange seeing him with somebody else.
It was hard to be happy for anybody when he wasn’t happy himself.
*
Rather than going down to UC Electronics and subjecting himself to more weirdness and masochistic flogging, Seth went home to take a nap. By the time he got to their apartment he wasn’t feeling particularly well, and he wondered briefly if his mom would be willing to fly up from Newport and take care of him if he called and said ‘please.’ She would’ve only heated up a tin of soup and some warm apple juice, but Seth was a really crappy sick person, and he wanted his mom, *now*.
He kicked his sneakers off by the front door and stripped off his shirt and jeans on the floor of the living room. He climbed into his bed, which hadn’t been made that morning, and wrapped himself in several layers of cotton and flannel. He only poked his head out to scrabble for the remote for his stereo and turn on some Massive Attack. Depressed music for depressed people.
He fell fast asleep before the end of the first track.
Some time later, he woke up with a start when Ryan’s voice pierced the darkness.
“Seth?”
Seth scrabbled for the light next to his bed. “Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse and raspy as he pushed the sheets away from his body and struggled to sit up.
He blinked owlishly at Ryan’s head peeking around the corner of his bedroom door.
“Summer’s on the phone.”
Seth nodded and scratched at his chest absently. “’Kay.”
Ryan pushed the door open a bit more, and Seth noticed his hesitation before coming in.
“You can just throw me the phone,” he offered, his intentions stuck somewhere between slothful and accommodating.
Ryan hesitated again, and then the phone arced through the air and landed at the foot of Seth’s bed. He wriggled out of his cocoon and grabbed the phone, slightly surprised when he looked up and Ryan was still there.
“Thanks.”
Ryan gave him a small smile and shut the door behind him.
Seth fumbled the phone and wound up putting the wrong end to his ear. He fumbled some more and found himself on the receiving end of a diatribe already in progress.
“What? Slow down,” he said, rearranging himself in the sheets.
“You haven’t done it yet, have you?” Summer cut him off, bypassing all forms of greeting and etiquette.
Seth sighed.
“Cohen, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re losing me money.”
“What are you harping about, Dionne Warwick. How do you know I haven’t done it yet?”
“I told you don’t call me that cut-rate hack, and what do you think I am? Stupid? You totally would’ve called if you officially had a boyfriend, and you haven’t, and I don’t have time to completely skool you. I’m getting ready for this guy from Arthur Anderson to pick me up, and I can’t spend precious hair seconds dealing with you.”
“You’re dating some guy named Arthur?”
“It’s a consulting company, dork. Your ignorance is astounding, Cohen, now listen up because my hot rollers have to come out.”
Seth burrowed down into his covers. “I’m all ears, your highness.”
“Damn straight. I told you I’d be bitter if you didn’t get your shit together, and I know you don’t want to deal with me, so you have until next Tuesday to figure something out. I know you’re coming home and if you don’t bring a boyfriend with you, I am so going to make your life miserable.”
“And that would be different from now, how?”
“Shut up. I’m serious. Whatever your hang up is, get over it.”
“But what about –“
“How hard can it be to pick a guy and seduce him? You’re a guy, most of the time; I know you have at least one brain cell, figure something out.”
“But –“
“Rage blackouts, Cohen, remember those? Also, I have to go. There’s a hot, rich, M&A consultant waiting for me.”
Seth’s sputtering was wasted on the dial tone.
As if his life weren’t hard enough, now, he was being threatened by his ex-girlfriend.
Clearly, he’d pissed somebody off in a previous life.
He climbed out of bed reluctantly and wandered across his bedroom, tripping slightly over an errant sneaker. He opened his door and was slightly surprised when he realized the entire living room was pitch black except for the dull blue glow coming from the television. Ryan’s features were muted in a pale light, and Seth stumbled over the jeans he’d discarded earlier in the day.
“Sorry about that, man,” he said, picking up the jeans and shirt and tossing them through his bedroom door.
“It’s not like I’ve never spoken to Summer before,” Ryan said.
Seth paused. “I meant the stuff on the floor.”
There was the sound of gunshots from the television, and Seth squinted. “What’re you watching?”
“The Usual Suspects.”
Seth bit his lip and nodded his head. Not that Ryan actually saw him doing this with the whole complete darkness thing.
He shook his head sadly. He was clearly losing it.
He squinted at the screen and grinned when he saw McManus lying on his back next to Fenster in a jail cell.
“Gimme the keys you cocksucker, motherfucker!” Seth shouted suddenly.
And then there was a long pause, wherein Seth closed his eyes and wondered when he’d come down with Tourette’s. When he opened his eyes, Ryan was leaning over the back of the sofa and looking at him intently. His eyes were wide in the faint light from Seth’s room.
“Uh, huh,” was all he said.
Seth nodded his head, again. “Uh, yeah.”
First the first time in weeks, Ryan smiled. Seth grinned back.
“Can I watch?”
“I don’t know, can you?”
Seth was positive that there was no way Ryan meant for that to be as erotic as it sounded to Seth’s sex-starved ears, so he ignored the allusion. “Be right back.”
Eighteen seconds later he returned wearing a certain old gray hoodie and carrying a blanket he’d yanked off his bed.
Climbing over the back of the sofa, he stretched out opposite Ryan and spread the blanket over his bare feet.
Five minutes later he shifted around because an errant spring was poking him in the back.
Five minutes after that he shifted because his leg got cramped.
He went to shift around again, and stopped when Ryan’s hand came down on his arm.
“Stop it,” he said.
Seth froze and his throat closed up. His “sorry” was barely audible.
“Just stay still for five seconds,” Ryan pleaded.
Oh.
Seth nodded his head. He could do that.
*
Seth woke up with the distinct impression that something was off. He was warm. He was clothed. The room wasn’t spinning, and he felt pretty sure he had fallen asleep in his own apartment, but his pillow was moving.
No, it was breathing.
Seth’s eyes cracked open, and the entire world came into view on a 45-degree slant. Correction: not the world, just him.
His pillow sniffled, and Seth finally understood exactly what paralysis was like as he found a new empathy for Christopher Reeve.
Seth’s eyes darted around as much as they could when he refused to move his neck, and his hands flexed on the blanket spread out on his lap. It was good that his hands were in plain view, that way he couldn’t be accused of doing anything wrong. Not that he’d done anything wrong. He just had the distinct impression that he wanted to or some part of him had been planning something bad. Then again, his morning erection always gave him that impression.
Seth’s pillow snuffled again, and when he tried to pull away, he realized that there were fingers in his hair. Heavy fingers in his hair, which kept him from lifting his head from where it rested on Ryan’s chest, underneath his arm.
Seth’s heart began to beat rapidly, and his brain whirred as it tried get enough warp factor to jump to hyperspace or something.
Clearly Seth was having major issues if he was mixing up Star Wars and Star Trek.
Biting his lip, Seth slowly began to extract himself from the human pillow beside him. The fingers in his hair were the hardest part, and even as he was pulling away, some part of Seth was loudly protesting about his actions.
All those years of dreaming about sleeping with Ryan, and now Seth was trying to get *away*? Clearly he was just as mentally unstable as everybody always said.
Ducking away with the kind of grace he didn’t have 99% of the time, Seth licked his lips and watched Ryan’s chest rise and fall as he breathed.
It was hot.
He was hot.
The whole thing was entirely too erotic for however early it was in the morning. Seth needed to go jerk off, now, or illicit, groping type things were going to happen, and then Ryan would really never forgive him. Seth would get locked away wherever they put guys who couldn’t stop molesting their best friends.
Shaking his head, Seth got to his feet and stepped away from the sofa. He was going to take a shower and then he was going to cook breakfast. For Ryan. Not that he knew how to cook, but it couldn’t possibly be that hard.
It didn’t matter that the only thing that Seth knew how to cook was grilled cheese; he could figure something out. He’d watched Ryan and Rosa cook for years, he had to know something by osmosis if nothing else.
He tamped down hard on the urge to kiss Ryan before he took his shower.
The wrongness of fondling sleeping people aside, nobody deserved morning breath.
*
Ryan was still asleep when Seth padded into the kitchen wearing a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a tee shirt proclaiming that “tee shirts are over.” His hair fluffed around his head in damp curls, and there was still soap in his ears. It had been a quick shower, and he hadn’t gotten clean so much as he’d just gotten off.
Prioritization was important.
He poked around in the cabinets for a bit, trying to figure out what he could cook that would be impressive, but easy. Ramen noodles didn’t quite measure up, and he wasn’t really that big of a fan of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. The fluorescent orangeness was just wrong.
Eventually, Seth moved to the refrigerator where he found a carton of eggs and half a package of bacon. He removed both from the fridge and set about finding a frying pan to cook in. He’d seen Ryan cook bacon before, and anybody could scramble eggs, he was sure of it.
After a glance at the eggs, Seth also decided that the expiration date was just a suggestion, too. After all who the hell would throw out eggs just because they were a few weeks past date?
Setting the only frying pan he found on the stove, Seth turned the flame underneath it on high heat and unwrapped the bacon. He began laying down the raw slices haphazardly until the bacon began sizzling and popping. He muffled a curse when a bubble of bacon fat popped near the tip of his finger. Obviously he needed a fork or something for this.
Turning away from the bacon, Seth opened the utensil drawer and began poking around for a fork. The only things in their drawer were spoons, chopsticks and plastic knives. None of which would help Seth out. He briefly contemplated using the chopsticks, but his skills weren’t that good.
As the bacon continued to pop and sizzle behind him, Seth took another tour of the kitchen cabinets trying to find a fork. An acrid smell penetrated Seth’s senses, but he figured the stoners across the hall were having their morning Wake & Bake, and carried on with his quest.
He finally found a fork under the dirty dishes in the sink, and had just rinsed it off when the smoke alarm went off behind him.
The blaring siren ripped through Seth’s eardrums like someone had turned an amp to 11. “SHIT!” he shouted when he realized that the bacon wasn’t cooking as much as it was smoking.
Then the fire began.
Seth whirled around the kitchen looking for a fire extinguisher or water or anything. He’d just grabbed a glass of dirty water to throw on the bacon, when he felt strong fingers wrapping around his wrist.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan’s hair was mussed and his eyes were huge.
Seth blinked and shook off two hundred and eight inappropriate thoughts.
“Trying to burn the apartment down, what do you think I’m doing, Fire Marshall Bill?” he snarked, trying to extricate himself from Ryan so they didn’t have to go to prison for arson.
“You can’t throw water on that!” Ryan’s grasp on Seth’s wrist tightened as he put himself between Seth and the flaming bacon.
Seth struggled to get past Ryan, who proceeded to block him by flinging open the refrigerator door and effectively boxing himself in next to the flambéed bacon.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?!” Seth shouted over the din of the smoke alarm as Ryan yanked something out of the fridge and dumped it on the sizzling fire.
They both coughed as the kitchen filled with white powder.
Seth was still coughing when Ryan shut the refrigerator door, and his throat seized up when Ryan’s hands grabbed his forearms and pressed him against the counter next to the sink.
“Don’t. Move,” Ryan ordered. Grabbing several paper towels from the counter, he ran them under water before wrapping them around his hand.
Seth watched in awe as Ryan using the makeshift bandage to push the pan onto another hob, and then turn off the stove.
A voice in Seth’s head made a very undignified noise, and Seth pointedly didn’t say anything about white knights, but still, he had his own superhero. It was very fucking cool.
He wondered briefly if Robin had always felt this way about Batman, and then he thought about Bruce and *Dick* and sniggered to himself.
If Ryan noticed he didn’t say anything, and Seth continued to stay exactly where he was as Ryan left the kitchen, and Seth heard the creaking sound of a window being opened.
The temperature in the apartment dropped by several degrees as the fire alarm kept blaring, and Seth shivered against the counter. He glanced briefly at the powdered gray mess on the stove and sighed loudly.
He jumped when Ryan breezed past him again, this time with a magazine in tow. Standing directly under the alarm, he began waving the magazine back and forth rapidly.
Seth rubbed his hand over his mouth and watched.
“What the hell were you doing?” Ryan’s tone wasn’t quite as sharp as it had been when Seth was playing Arson 101, but he seemed just as confused.
Seth shrugged. “I was trying to cook.”
Ryan shook his head and kept fanning. “I can see that. The question is why? What the hell were you thinking?”
The counter was digging into Seth‘s back, and tentatively he took a step away. “ I was trying to make you breakfast. The rest was just a happy accident.”
Ryan‘s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “A happy accident? Is that what this is?” he said gesturing to the baking soda-saturated bacon.
Seth frowned. “Dude, have you always been this ungrateful?”
Ryan’s arm froze mid-wave. “Ungrateful? *Me*? What -- Why were you trying to cook this for me anyway?”
“Well, it wasn’t to poison you,” Seth snarked. “Despite appearances to the contrary.”
“You could’ve just – cereal would’ve been fine.”
“Well, yeah, but then there would’ve been no groping. I figured if I put myself in jeopardy you’d have to grope me.” Seth tamped down on the Batman comparison.
The alarm finally stopping harping, and Ryan’s arm immediately dropped to his side. The whisper of fabric and paper was the only noise in the entire apartment.
Seth help up his hands. “Joking. I was just joking.”
Ryan tilted his head to the side as though he were looking right through Seth.
“Or not. Okay, I wasn’t, but dude, I was getting desperate.”
Ryan stared. “Desperate for what?”
“You!” Seth said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m going crazy for Cocoa Puffs here, and I can’t keep living with you like this. I’m trying to be good and do what you want, but all this best behavior stuff isn’t me.”
Seth sighed. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”
Ryan’s head snapped up so fast even Seth felt the pain.
“I mean I do, but dude, I want you. Me. Us. I want this thing, and I can’t keep acting like I don’t, and if you’re not my boyfriend when we go home for Thanksgiving Summer is going to do something really really bad to me. She has rage blackouts, Ry; they're not pretty, and I can’t take anymore --”
The impact of the kitchen counter against his spine sent a sharp jolt through Seth’s body, but seeing as Ryan was the one who had wedged him there Seth couldn’t bring himself to complain.
Seth’s dick twitched happily in his jeans, and the little voice in his head began singing all kinds of bad 80’s pop. Seth didn’t even *like* George Michael.
He gripped the counter behind him at the feel of Ryan’s leg pressed between his own for the second time in his life, and he inhaled sharply as Ryan’s hands gripped his waist tightly. “You want *this*?” Ryan asked.
Between the repeated shoving against surfaces and rough timber of Ryan’s voice, Seth’s sense of deja vu had a small stroke, and strangely the only side effect was that swallowing became a very unnatural thing. He nodded.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Fucking hell, yes,” Seth yammered.
When Ryan leaned forward expectantly, Seth pulled his head away. “Wait.”
Ryan‘s grip on Seth tightened fractionally. “What?”
“Don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it. Seriously, dude. If there‘s some guy you have locked in your closet or shackled to your bed or hiding out in Wurster Hall, you better cut him lose because I am so not sharing,” Seth warned. “Not that I think you’d do that, um, yeah. Sorry, I know I had a hypocritical moment there.’
“You know this works both ways, right?” Ryan’s voice was low. “Nobody else, Seth.”
Seth nodded.
When Ryan smiled, Seth’s heart fluttered. “Okay,” he said.
“Okay.”
Seth grinned.
The smile died away as Ryan’s eyes focused on Seth’s mouth, and he licked his lips absently.
Seth dragged his tongue over his bottom lip as he stared at Ryan’s mouth. He was going to kiss Ryan. Ryan was going to kiss him. Again. In the recesses of his brain Seth could hear angels singing and Summer cackling as she collected on her bet.
Leaning forward, he lowered his eyelids slowly, seeking out Ryan’s mouth blindly. The gasp he made as Ryan thrust again him was swallowed up in their kiss, and Seth moaned happily as Ryan’s mouth met his, and Ryan’s erection pressed against his thigh.
When Ryan’s tongue slipped between Seth’s lips, they relaxed into the kiss as though it was something they’d been doing forever instead of something they *should* have been doing forever.
Releasing his hold on the counter, Seth slid his hands along Ryan’s forearms, up bare shoulders and along his neck until his hands cupped Ryan’s face. He held Ryan in place as his tongue thrust into Ryan’s mouth over and over.
When Ryan’s hands slipped from his waist to his ass, Seth tried to wrap his leg around Ryan’s waist. Anything to keep him from getting away again.
Eventually, Ryan pulled away to breathe, but Seth figured he could breathe when he was dead. As one of Ryan’s hands slipped underneath the hem of his shirt and rubbed little circles on his lower back, Seth mouthed his way along the warm column of Ryan’s throat.
He hummed happily when Ryan clutched at his back, and he nipped at Ryan’s earlobe before sucking a dark bruise into the soft spot behind Ryan’s ear.
Ryan hissed Seth’s name plaintively, and when Ryan wriggled in his grasp Seth wrapped his leg that much tighter.
He couldn’t really bring himself to care that he was grinding himself against Ryan like a lap dancer. He couldn’t really think of anybody else who he’d even try something like that for.
He brushed his lips against the shell of Ryan’s ear and rubbed against him hungrily.
Seth’s sense of pride when Ryan shuddered against him was obliterated two seconds later, when Ryan insinuated his right hand between them and rubbed at Seth’s erection with a flat palm and sure fingers. It took Seth approximately 27 seconds to come, and he laughed when Ryan jumped when Seth licked at his neck.
As Ryan stroked his back, Seth sighed contentedly, despite the wet jeans.
“How do you feel about Hawaii?” Seth asked eventually, pulling away to study a flushed face and swollen lips.
Ryan just stared. “How do I feel about what about Hawaii?”
Seth was going to explain, but Ryan had sweat dotting his upper lip and Seth decided he wanted to lick it off. That degenerated into more necking, and Seth deciding that he needed to leave another hickey where Ryan’s neck met his shoulder.
Ryan’s skin tasted salty and was soft under Seth’s wet tongue and sharp teeth.
Ryan twitched. “Seth, what -- are you marking me?”
Seth murmured, but didn’t pull away.
Ryan wriggled underneath Seth’s mouth again, and he smiled into warm skin before pulling away. “So. Hawaii.”
Ryan stared. “You want to talk about *Hawaii*?’
“Yeah, I think we should go.“
Ryan‘s eyes widened. Seth smirked.
“What?” he said. “Don’t you remember the first time you left, and I gave you that map of the Pacific Ocean in case there was some place you wanted to go? I figured we could go to Hawaii. You know, start small and build up to Tahiti. Or Bali. I heard Bali’s good.”
Ryan shook his head. “First, you’re marking me, and now you want to go to Hawaii? How about we do the date thing, first, and then we’ll see about conquering the world, okay?”
Seth shrugged as he leaned forward and nuzzled at Ryan’s neck again. “Whatever you want.”
He sighed as Ryan‘s fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt again to stroke his lower back. “I want you to promise you won’t cook again.”
Seth snorted. “I can do that.”
“And no more skipping poetry.”
“But it’s really boring,” Seth protested.
The grip of Ryan’s left hand on Seth’s waist tightened, and he was reminded of the wet pants currently plastered against his groin.
“Okay, okay, anything else, master?”
“No more other guys.”
Ryan looked at Seth pointedly, and Seth swallowed and nodded. “Nobody else,” he repeated again.
“Good.”
Seth leaned forward to kiss Ryan again and was jarred when Ryan’s stomach rumbled audibly.
He pulled back with a wry grin, and Ryan scratched his head, looking sheepish.
“You’re hungry,” Seth said, stating the obvious.
“Yeah.”
“Me too.”
“McDonalds would be good.”
“It would.”
Ryan gave Seth a meaningful glance. “You want me to get it?“ Seth asked.
Ryan grinned.
“*Now*?” Seth was incredulous.
“Now.”
“You suck.”
“Maybe, if you’re lucky.”
Seth stared. Ryan grinned, again.
Seth extricated himself from Ryan and headed for the front door. He had his hand on the doorknob before he realized he’d forgotten his skateboard. Then he had to go back for his wallet. Then his jacket. And then his jeans began to dry in bad places, and he *had* to go back and change.
The entire time, Ryan stood in the kitchen entranceway and watched.
Finally, Seth was ready to go. He was half way out the door when Ryan called his name.
“Forgetting something?” he asked with a smirk.
Seth dropped everything, went back to the kitchen and kissed Ryan thoroughly.
When he pulled away, Ryan looked extremely dazed.
This time Seth smirked.
“I meant your shoes, man,” Ryan pointed out.
“I knew that,” Seth said.
“Of course you did.”
“Hey, I am all-knowing. God calls me for the lottery numbers.”
Ryan chuckled. “Whatever.”
Seth nodded, went back over to the door, and swiped the shoes he’d dumped there the night before. After he had assembled himself: wallet, jacket, shoes and all, he opened the door and walked out.
Two seconds later, he opened the door and walked back through. Ryan was standing in at the entrance to the kitchen, rubbing his hand over his mouth thoughtfully. He looked up quizzically when the door re-opened.
“You’ll be here when I get back, right?” Seth asked.
Ryan looked puzzled. “Where else would I be?”
“Just checking,” Seth said before he left, again, shutting the door behind him.
There were beer cans on the floor of hallway, and the banister was sticky when Seth mistakenly touched it. The air in the stairwell smelled of stale cigarettes and ramen noodles, and he whistled a few bars from ‘Rock the Casbah’ as he plodded down the stairs.
Outside their building, the sky was blue like Ryan’s eyes and Jamie’s eyes and too many other blue things for Seth to start waxing poetic. There was a slight breeze, but nothing too frigid, and Seth smiled to himself as he wandered over to the curb and dropped his board in the street. It made a cracking sound when it landed, rolled, and righted itself, and Seth took a deep breath before stepping on his board and pushing off.
This was what college was about.
-the end-
ETA: 11/03 Coda: The Last of the Great Navigators
ETA: 11/04 The Story of Jamie and Ian: Check Your Head
Last Notes: *This is the story I was never supposed to be able to write. At least not for real. It’s always nice to prove myself wrong. It wouldn’t have been possible without the following people:
*Jamie. Or as his agent calls him Ryan . He won my heart in ‘The Slaughter Rules’, and you know he almost won Seth, too. I was really undecided for a bit in the Ryan vs. Ryan stakes.
*Rufus Wainwright’s Poses and Doves’ The Last Broadcast. Go. Invest. Your life will be better.
*![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ethrosdemon. You made me think this was possible when I swore I couldn’t even get it off the ground. You made this whole story better just by being yourself, even when I wasn’t trying to hear it. Thank you, sweetie. I know I tell you all the time you rock, but really you do.
*serialkarma, my cheerleader and partner-in-crime for this enterprise. Your enthusiasm is second only to your willingness to go along with my insanity. You beta’d, poked, prodded and helped me learn what a plot is. When I was ready to give up, you almost sporked me. All of us heart you. Thank you.
* God made the world; the hippies made Berkeley. FYI: * There's a section of freeway in Berkeley that's 80 East and 580 West. Going the other way is 80 West and 580 East. Except that you're traveling more North/South and apparently going both east and west at the same time. Yeah, that’s Berkeley in a nutshell. Thanks for reminding me of that Anna.
*And last, but never least, here’s to everybody’s who’s taken the time to read and send feedback (especiallymarleigh, phineasjones, plum_evil, queenofalostart, romanticalgirl and semisuper). You make life a little brighter. Thanks. It’s been real.
Bonus Material:
Outtakes
Life is short, Seth. I can’t sit around and wait for you to figure out that Superman is Clark Kent or who the hell you want to be with. (Jamie)
What do you mean Superman is Clark Kent? (Seth)
--
Stoners upstairs during part six, yelling out the window:
Can’t you guys take the drama down to Melrose Place? People are trying to get high here!
---
ethrosdemon on the possibility of Seth and Jamie have sex while Summer watched:
**she would totally want them to have sex in front of her so she could tape it for the sisters
"And, like, this is totally my ex, who is a complete dorkwad, but in a hot, rich way. Check him out blowing that guy! Isn't this the coolest? I totally told you I was going to be voted House Leader this year!"
Music
I realized the other day that there’s so much music in this series that the OC need to hire me as music coordinator. Somebody hook me up! Seriously, for the junkies (like me) who might be interested in burning themselves a soundtrack:
A Soundtrack for You: Telegraph Avenue
I. Come Pick Me Up – Ryan Adams; Fools Gold – Stone Roses; Rolling with Heat – The Roots
II. The Boy with the Thorn in His Side – Jeff Buckley covering The Smiths; A Song for You – Whiskeytown covering Gram Parsons; One Man Guy – Rufus Wainwright
III. You Got Me – The Roots feat Jill Scott; I Can – Nas; The Last Broadcast – Doves; Sympathy for the Devil – The Rolling Stones (remixed by the Neptunes); In Bloom – Nirvana
IV. Caught by the River – Doves; All Apologies – Nirvana; Sour Times – Portishead; Mojo Pin – Jeff Buckley
V. A Movie Script Ending – Death Cab for Cutie; Touch of Grey – The Grateful Dead; Miracles – Matt Nathanson
VI. Title Fight – The Charlatans; I Shot the Sheriff – Bob Marley; Redemption Song – Bob Marley; Bittersweet Symphony – The Verve
VII. Train in Vain – The Clash; I Wanna be Sedated – The Ramones; 19-2000 – Gorillaz; P.I.M.P. –50 Cent; Elevators - Outkast
VIII. The Man That Got Away – Jeff Buckley; Check the Rhime – A Tribe Called Quest; Island in the Sun – Weezer; Reservations – Wilco; Crazy About You – Whiskeytown; The Way Young Lovers Do –Van Morrison
XI. Everything in its Right Place – Radiohead; K-os – Superstarr, part one; Talib Kweli – Get By; Angel – Massive Attack; Rock the Casbah – The Clash
Nine parts I said and nine parts it is.
Seth didn’t consider himself much of a deep thinker, not unless he was forced into it by being caught cheating on his boyfriend with his best friend. Nevertheless, he realized something rather profound when he opened the door to his apartment and found Ryan sprawled on the sofa. The reason people found stuff in the last place they looked was because they stopped looking once they’d found it.
He didn’t quite understand the entire thought at the time, but it made vague sense in the way most philosophy related things did. Maybe he’d ask Jamie when he ran into him again, after all the campus wasn’t really that big, no matter how well some people managed to hide.
He entered the apartment slowly, trying to gauge the situation as Ryan considered him warily. The guy from Jurassic Park popped into Seth’s head reminding him that moving fast was a bad, bad thing.
Ryan was stretched out in a tee shirt and jeans, which was his nod to the chilly Northern California weather. His hair was damp and he wore gray socks, which had once been white.
What Seth noticed more than anything, though, was the way he white-knuckled the remote control in his hand.
He hadn’t thrown anything before, but maybe Jamie’s psychic skills were right. Maybe this was about to get really ugly. As far as Seth knew Ryan wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless it played for the water polo team or went by the name of Luke, but there was a first time for everything. Like dry humping against a brick wall in the city.
Seth left his hand on the doorknob and rather than shutting the door behind him, left it open, pushing it against the wall and flattening himself against the battered wood surface.
Ryan lifted up the remote up, and Seth’s brain began to hurt.
“As a fellow samurai, I should probably be dignified about this, but if you’re going to throw the remote at me, could you not aim for my head, because the one brain cell I have left is already calling in the union for overtime,” he quipped lamely.
Ryan didn’t say anything, but he pointed the remote at the television, and Seth heard the deliberate click of the unit shutting down. Oh.
He closed his eyes and banged his head against the door loudly. It hurt.
“I may be the king of avoidance, but you’re totally giving me a run for my money. I get the point though, I could leave if you want, or I could wander up and down Shattuck naked, wearing a sign announcing how badly I fucked up. Your pick,” he blathered on, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
There were a lot of things Seth could theoretically take: dumpage, rejection, grounding.
Seeing Ryan disappointed in him was not one of them.
With his eyes closed, Seth’s senses should have been heightened considerably, but between his heart pounding in his ears and his damp hands slipping on the doorknob, he couldn’t really focus on what Ryan might be doing. He just prayed it didn’t have to do with packing and moving out.
He flinched noticeably when the floorboards creaked. He cracked one eye open and almost pissed himself when he realized Ryan was right in his face.
“If you’re going to hit me, that’s cool. You have every right to be mad; I know this. I am one with having fucked-up,” he paused. “Could you just warn me first so I don‘t scream like a girl?”
Ryan had dark circles under his eyes, and his sigh made Seth‘s stomach hurt. “Shut the door, Seth.”
Seth’s other eye opened in shock.
He nodded dumbly, stumbling slightly as he tried to shut the door while still in front of it.
After the door snicked shut, Seth looked back at Ryan expectantly as though he weren’t a twenty year-old man who at least knew how to tie his own shoes.
“Dude, you know, if you’re watching TV, I can go -- go…” Seth’s sentence trailed off as he realized he had plenty of places he could go, but no place else he wanted to be. He’d said he was going to resolve shit today, and he was going to resolve something, even if it killed him.
Or killed the thing most important to him.
“I don’t want to go anywhere else,” he corrected defiantly.
Ryan shrugged. “It’s your place, too,” he said, studying Seth for several seconds before turning away.
Seth’s heart went from overdrive to dead in the water. He tried to speak and found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth
He watched as Ryan went back over to the sofa and dropped back down gracefully. Instead of picking up the remote though, he picked up a copy of Catch-22 that Seth had been reading for class and thumbed through it idly.
“I need – we need – I think we should talk,” Seth said finally.
He flinched again when Ryan tossed the book back on the coffee table with a thump. “*Talk*,” he said, shifting around on the sofa until he was pressed firmly in the corner furthest away from Seth.
“What would you like to talk about, Seth? Jamie? Your lying? That fact that you used me to cheat on your boyfriend? Pick one.”
Seth sighed deeply and rubbed his fingers through his hair. Now he understood why people kept talking about going uphill in both directions. There was no easy way to have this conversation, and if he’d thought Ryan was going to be easy on him just because he’d been dumped, he was obviously really really stupid. Not that Ryan knew he’d been dumped. Not that Ryan was probably going to care anymore. What was that saying about not shitting where you slept? Oh, don’t do it.
Seth took a step towards the sofa, cautiously, sure at any moment that Ryan was going to walk out or yell again or do something that would leave Seth even more scarred for life and his parents knee deep in therapy bills.
Ryan didn’t say anything, but the tilt of his chin was defiant. Clearly Seth was going to have to drop to his knees and beg. He was not above that. Instead he touched the arm of the sofa gingerly, as though it were an enemy terrain full of landmines and quicksand, and swallowed.
He could barely breathe for the lump in his throat. It felt more like an egg.
“I’m not seeing Jamie anymore,” he rasped out.
It felt weird to say it; that he wasn’t with Jamie any more. He hadn’t even really thought about them as together in the first place, but then he’d gone all big pimpin’, and then they were over, and it hurt. Not that Ryan probably gave a flying fuck.
Seth would’ve sworn that Ryan snorted, but since his eyes were firmly on the mustard and burgundy plaid weave, he couldn’t be certain. His racing heartbeat kept drowning a lot of things out.
“He, uh, he dumped me.” He picked at the coarse threads of the sofa fabric and scuffed the floor with the toe of his right sneaker.
“Can you blame him?” Ryan’s incredulous tone came across loud and clear.
“No,” Seth admitted, finally looking at Ryan. “I don’t. I mean if public flogging was still all the rage, I‘d probably be due for my forty licks or whatever.”
Ryan was silent, but his stare made Seth’s brain ache, and instead Seth focused on his bedroom door just over Ryan’s left shoulder. It would be so much easier to run. It always was. But that had gotten him nowhere.
Pride? What pride?
“I know I messed up like Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake,” he began, glancing around the apartment. “I know I should’ve said something about Jamie, and that I shouldn’t have let you think I wasn’t seeing anybody, but dude, I didn’t even know you were interested. Don’t you think if I had known I would’ve shown up for our date with chocolates and flowers and very single?”
“I don’t know what you would have done.” Ryan’s words hurt, and Seth’s fingers began yanking at the weave of the sofa violently.
“What’s *that* supposed to mean?”
“It means that I thought I knew you,” Ryan said. “I thought we were friends and that I could trust you, but you lied to me.”
Seth yanked so hard at a mustard thread that it ripped out, and he was left with a little tuft of fiber. He looked up at Ryan in shock. “How could you think that we aren’t friends? I mean apart from the obvious that I didn’t tell you I was gay thing, but it’s not like you told me you were even interested. I’ve been all Big Gay Crush about you for years, and all you’ve ever seen is Marissa.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ryan shot back. “You think this is about *her*? From the moment I met you all you’ve done is talk about girls, and now you’re angry with me for trying to follow the status quo that *you* set?”
Seth’s eyes rolled in his head. “You’ve always been about Marissa, how the hell was I supposed to know you liked me?”
“Everybody knows I like you Seth.” Ryan sat up rigidly. “Everybody except *you*.”
Seth’s mouth dropped open and nothing came out. He thought about Erika and Tara and Summer, and even Jamie. People had made *bets*. Where the hell had he been when all this was going on? Oh, in the closet, right. Why was he always the last one to know?
“It doesn’t matter if everybody else knew,” he explained. “I didn’t know. I may have verbal skills like Eminem on speed, but I’m not all intuitive like *some* people. I need to be told when the hell my best friend has feelings for me.”
Ryan shook his head. “It’s not my job to write you an essay, if you can’t tell that you’re the only person I go out of my way to spend time with.”
It hurt a lot when Seth bit his tongue. Plus, it made it hard for him to interrupt.
“It’s not as though I would have objected if you’d told me about Jamie, but you had to go and hide it. You lied to me and you lied to him. Are you really surprised he dumped you?” Ryan’s tone was so harsh that Seth began to feel queasy, again, and he grabbed the sofa for support. It was like when he’d broken his arm while skateboarding.
He was sorry, but it wasn’t as though he hadn’t suffered. He could supply the cross if Ryan wanted to crucify him, but that totally wasn’t going to solve anything.
Ryan rubbed his hand over his mouth and sighed.
“I fucked up, man, I know I did, and I‘m sorry. You‘ll never know how sorry I am. I even cleaned,” Seth said, breaking the silence.
Ryan was incredulous. “Do you think *cleaning* is going to make this better?”
“You’re not listening to me,” Seth interjected, “I’m trying to explain to you why I couldn’t wrap myself in a rainbow flag and streak around the apartment until you got the message.”
“You’ve had all the chances in the world to talk to me, why the hell should I listen to you now?”
Ryan got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen. There was the clattering of cupboards opening and muffled cursing. The door of the refrigerator opened and closed, twice.
Seth looked around the tidy apartment, picked at the arm of the sofa, and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do now. A nap seemed like a good idea. So did locking himself in the bathroom. Clearly one Oprah session per day was his limit.
“Where the hell is all the beer?” Ryan asked, ducking his head around the corner.
“I drank it.”
Ryan stared. “You *drank* half a case of Beast?”
“I was waiting for you to come home, man,” Seth shrugged. “It was a long wait.”
Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “You waited up?”
“Both nights. I don’t recommend sleeping on the floor by the door. It gives you a wicked crick in the neck.”
Ryan blinked. “You slept on the floor and drank all the beer?”
“I’d’ve made a great fraternity brother,” Seth quipped. “Or not. Most definitely not.”
Ryan was silent.
Seth stuck his hands in his pockets. If he kept picking at the sofa they’d have nothing but a frame by the time the year was over.
“Why did you do this?” Ryan asked.
His plaintive expression was clear, even to Seth, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before he answered. There were a lot of interpretations to that question, and rather than picking just one, Seth went for the “all of the above” option.
It wasn’t like there was anything left to lose.
“Because you were always working, and I was fucking lonely, and Jamie made it clear that he liked me, and I needed that. Because I’ve had a crush on you since you interrupted my quality Playstation time wearing one of those goddamn look-at-how-hot-I-am wifebeaters. Because everyone seems to know, but me, that no matter who else I date, you’re the guy I want to be with. Hell, even I realized it too, even if I was too late.”
Ryan slumped against the wall and rubbed his eyes. He looked ready to collapse, and Seth wondered where the hell he’d been sleeping for the last two nights.
Ryan’s head tilted downwards as though he were speaking to his feet. “All you had to do was say something.”
“You could’ve said something, too,” Seth pointed out.
Ryan was quiet, but when he looked up Seth felt like ripping out his own heart and offering it to him. A little Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom never hurt anybody.
“It could’ve been totally different,” Ryan said finally.
“Maybe, but that’s not now.”
Ryan stared. Yeah, Seth didn’t know when he’d become so jaded either.
He blinked and watched as Ryan slid down the wall and sprawled his legs out on the floor. After a beat, Seth stepped from behind the sofa and sat on the floor between the sofa and Ryan.
The distance between them was negligible, but Seth felt as though it might as well have been an entire continent. Even if Ryan hadn’t gone to Boston to get Marissa back, he might as well have been in Massachusetts anyway.
“You know what it‘s like when nobody’s ever wanted you and then somebody does?”
Seth held up his hand to stop Ryan’s answer. “I know you know what I mean, but this is like, it’s different. Okay, yes, I’m that spoiled rich kid that you’ve always hated, but I never asked for that, and then you came along it was like… like *dude*. You were this guy who didn’t care that I was this crazy comic book geek. Who I was or what I had didn’t really matter. I was cool with you, and we were cool. It was like you were Batman and I was Robin. I could do anything with you and it was *us*, and it didn’t matter that I was the sidekick and not Bruce Wayne from Chino. And then there was Marissa and Summer, and it was like I had my own comic book, like Nightwing. But you know how Batman and Robin, the real one - not Tim, are always better *together*? We’re like that, and I’d do anything to make you happy; don’t you get that by now?”
Ryan might have snorted or even smiled, but if he did, Seth missed it. He was far too busy mentally castrating himself in a voice that sounded like Alfred, the loyal butler.
A whole new kind of desperation was welling up inside of him that he couldn’t remember being there before. He finally understood what everyone else had been seeing. It wasn’t blind adoration, it was loyalty and devotion and all the stuff that he’d thought he’d never find with anybody.
No wonder everybody thought he was crazy. He was crazy -- about Ryan. Even more so than he’d ever thought. And yet, he still couldn’t quite explain it properly.
He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Ryan because he would probably still be disgusted or confused or angry or hurt or whatever. Flying home for Thanksgiving was going to be a disaster, but if Seth started hitchhiking today, there was every chance he could reach Newport by the following month.
Seth sighed again when he realized he’d tangled his hands in the hem of his tee. Eventually he started talking again, babbling helplessly as he tried to extract himself from the mess he’d made.
“I know I lied. I know I hurt you, but every time you decided you’d rather study to maintain your 4.0 hurt *me*. Jamie made time for me; I needed that. It was like I was living with you, but you weren’t even *here*. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have friends, or whatever, but dude, shouldn’t I see more of you post-Marissa instead of less?”
“Seth,” Ryan began, obviously frustrated. “I told you, I have to do this. I need this scholarship.”
Seth’s fingers ripped the hem of his shirt as his head snapped up.
“No! You don’t!” he hollered back. “I keep trying to tell you that you don’t, but you won’t fucking listen to me!”
“I’m not here to be yelled at,” Ryan warned. “This is not about you.”
“Of course it’s about me,” Seth snorted. “It’s about us. It’s always about us. Didn’t you listen to anything I said the other night? All these other people, they don’t matter, at the end of the day it’s always just going to be about me and you.”
Seth gestured between then several times, ignoring a strange sense of deja vu.
“You stood up for me when you didn’t even know me. Dude, you fought the entire water polo team for me. I remember the day you left and I hugged you goodbye, not my most manly moment, but whatever. And then you were gone, and I’m pretty sure I would’ve driven to Chino every weekend to see you, but then you were back. Then I thought you were leaving again to go to Austin, only you didn’t. And then there was Marissa and now there’s school and every time I think I have you I lose you to something else.”
Ryan banged his head against the wall in aggravation and Seth winced.
“Where exactly do you think I’m going?” he asked. “Your parents are my guardians, even though I’m legal now. I’m in school. We live together. Why do you keep thinking I’m trying to leave you?”
“Because nobody wants to be with me,” Seth said sadly.
“*What*?” Ryan groaned and slumped all the way onto the floor. Seth folded his legs so that Ryan could splay out his arms. “Everybody wants to be with you, Seth, that’s the whole fucking problem.”
“But I don’t want to be with everybody,” Seth protested.
“What about Jamie?’
“Even he knows I want to be with you.”
Ryan exhaled sharply. “Because you cheated on him with me.”
“No,” Seth sighed. “Because all I ever did was talk about you.”
They were quiet for several seconds.
Seth could feel the sun coming through the window and beating on his back, except he wasn’t warm. He felt cold. And alone.
Outside he heard some girl yelling at someone. The building rattled when the front door closed with a slam and heavy footsteps ran up the stairs. The door across the hall slammed shut, and Seth figured it had to be somewhere close to 4:20.
Ryan’s voice projected from where he lay. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“But you did.”
Seth sighed, again. He needed to get some sleep. “I fucked up, dude. I can apologize forever, but if you’re not going to forgive me then it’s kind of pointless.”
He was startled when Ryan got to his feet. He towered over Seth considerably, and Seth bit his lip nervously.
What kind of dumbass made ultimatums after he’d got caught cheating? The Seth Cohen kind of dumbass.
“I don’t know,” Ryan said, and for the second time in as many days, Ryan walked away from him.
This time he was only closing his bedroom door, but Seth didn’t see it as much of an improvement.
Clearly college was not about academics, but about alcohol and angst.
They needed to put that disclaimer in the brochure.
Life on eggshells wasn’t something that Seth was particularly accustomed to. Normally he just snarked until he felt better and that was it, but for Ryan he was willing to try anything once.
Over the next few days, things went back to a strange kind of normalcy that only they could understand. Ryan went back to sleeping in his bed, and Seth went back to skipping the occasional class. Seth avoided making eye contact with any boy he thought might be attractive, and Ryan kept studying himself into the ground.
On the weekend they sat around the house watching television, but didn’t really say much. Their life-altering conversations centered around pizza or Chinese for delivery and LOTR or Star Wars for the night time entertainment.
On Sunday morning, Ryan cooked breakfast and left enough on the stove for Seth. When he left the house, Seth sat around wondering how much longer he could take the strain. They lived together, but barely talked, and even when they sat next to each other on the sofa, Seth felt as though Ryan was hundreds of miles away.
In summation, the whole thing sucked a big one.
But it was what Ryan wanted. At least Seth thought it was, and he really didn’t think he had the right to demand anything from anybody without being strung upside down by his toes.
So life went on like this for one week. And then another week. And then it was the week before Thanksgiving, and they were going to fly home in a few days, and Seth never thought he’d look forward to seeing Newport so much in his entire life. At the moment, it ranked up there with blowjobs and other stuff that he couldn’t think of at the time. The weather in Berkeley was bringing new meaning to the word “craptastic” and at home Seth could go sailing. He could be alone without feeling as though it were being forced on him as punishment.
Maybe things would be different at home. Maybe not.
The Thursday before Thanksgiving, Seth dashed into the Amoeba on Telegraph after his 20th Century Lit class.
He hadn’t planned on buying anything, but the Flaming Lips had a new LP that might’ve been calling to him all day, and his level of resistance was notoriously low.
He’d actually been thinking about going to UC Electronics and seeing if Ryan wanted to catch the midnight screening of 28 Days Later at the student union. It was going to have all three endings, and Seth wasn’t sure he could take another night cooped up in the apartment waiting for the axe to drop. He was kind of on the fence about asking Ryan to do anything, since every time to they were together Seth wanted to wrap his arms around Ryan’s ankles and beg for forgiveness, but maybe if they went somewhere together, the strain wouldn’t seem as bad.
He would even put on a clean shirt.
As usual there was a small congestion of people by the front door, selling CDs, toting crates of vinyl and just milling around. Seth pushed through and paused by the used hip-hop section. He wasn’t a huge rap fan, but they were selling K-os and Talib Kweli for $9.99, and Seth was not about to pass by a good deal. He picked up Jay-Z’s The Black LP and the latest Jurassic 5, and was moving down the line towards the dreaded Techno section, when he heard a laugh that made his stomach tighten.
He lifted his head and blinked several times, just to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was. It was more than remotely possible that he was hallucinating after pulling that all-nighter to write his paper on The Color Purple.
Then again, maybe not.
After all, Jamie wearing an army green hat like Fidel Castro and a dark blue turtleneck was still the same Jamie. He still had the same bright blue eyes and wry grin when he was happy. And even if he had Calvin-Klein-Model-To-Be Ian rubbing the back of his neck and giving him a pseudo-massage, that didn’t mean Seth was hallucinating it.
Seth’s subconscious was already bitter, but there was no way it would’ve gone this far overboard.
The plastic cases slipped from Seth’s grasp, and made a muted clunking sound when they fell on top of the rows of Various Hip-Hop releases. For a second, he actually contemplated going over and saying hi, but that just seemed stupid and pointlessly masochistic.
It was obvious that Jamie was happy without him. It was also obvious that Seth still cared for him more than he’d thought.
When Ian kissed the back of Jamie’s neck, Seth’s stomach curled, and he stepped backwards abruptly, bumping into someone behind him. He offered a few random apologies and left the store in a hurry.
Of course he wanted Jamie to be happy. He deserved to be, it just felt strange seeing him with somebody else.
It was hard to be happy for anybody when he wasn’t happy himself.
Rather than going down to UC Electronics and subjecting himself to more weirdness and masochistic flogging, Seth went home to take a nap. By the time he got to their apartment he wasn’t feeling particularly well, and he wondered briefly if his mom would be willing to fly up from Newport and take care of him if he called and said ‘please.’ She would’ve only heated up a tin of soup and some warm apple juice, but Seth was a really crappy sick person, and he wanted his mom, *now*.
He kicked his sneakers off by the front door and stripped off his shirt and jeans on the floor of the living room. He climbed into his bed, which hadn’t been made that morning, and wrapped himself in several layers of cotton and flannel. He only poked his head out to scrabble for the remote for his stereo and turn on some Massive Attack. Depressed music for depressed people.
He fell fast asleep before the end of the first track.
Some time later, he woke up with a start when Ryan’s voice pierced the darkness.
“Seth?”
Seth scrabbled for the light next to his bed. “Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse and raspy as he pushed the sheets away from his body and struggled to sit up.
He blinked owlishly at Ryan’s head peeking around the corner of his bedroom door.
“Summer’s on the phone.”
Seth nodded and scratched at his chest absently. “’Kay.”
Ryan pushed the door open a bit more, and Seth noticed his hesitation before coming in.
“You can just throw me the phone,” he offered, his intentions stuck somewhere between slothful and accommodating.
Ryan hesitated again, and then the phone arced through the air and landed at the foot of Seth’s bed. He wriggled out of his cocoon and grabbed the phone, slightly surprised when he looked up and Ryan was still there.
“Thanks.”
Ryan gave him a small smile and shut the door behind him.
Seth fumbled the phone and wound up putting the wrong end to his ear. He fumbled some more and found himself on the receiving end of a diatribe already in progress.
“What? Slow down,” he said, rearranging himself in the sheets.
“You haven’t done it yet, have you?” Summer cut him off, bypassing all forms of greeting and etiquette.
Seth sighed.
“Cohen, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re losing me money.”
“What are you harping about, Dionne Warwick. How do you know I haven’t done it yet?”
“I told you don’t call me that cut-rate hack, and what do you think I am? Stupid? You totally would’ve called if you officially had a boyfriend, and you haven’t, and I don’t have time to completely skool you. I’m getting ready for this guy from Arthur Anderson to pick me up, and I can’t spend precious hair seconds dealing with you.”
“You’re dating some guy named Arthur?”
“It’s a consulting company, dork. Your ignorance is astounding, Cohen, now listen up because my hot rollers have to come out.”
Seth burrowed down into his covers. “I’m all ears, your highness.”
“Damn straight. I told you I’d be bitter if you didn’t get your shit together, and I know you don’t want to deal with me, so you have until next Tuesday to figure something out. I know you’re coming home and if you don’t bring a boyfriend with you, I am so going to make your life miserable.”
“And that would be different from now, how?”
“Shut up. I’m serious. Whatever your hang up is, get over it.”
“But what about –“
“How hard can it be to pick a guy and seduce him? You’re a guy, most of the time; I know you have at least one brain cell, figure something out.”
“But –“
“Rage blackouts, Cohen, remember those? Also, I have to go. There’s a hot, rich, M&A consultant waiting for me.”
Seth’s sputtering was wasted on the dial tone.
As if his life weren’t hard enough, now, he was being threatened by his ex-girlfriend.
Clearly, he’d pissed somebody off in a previous life.
He climbed out of bed reluctantly and wandered across his bedroom, tripping slightly over an errant sneaker. He opened his door and was slightly surprised when he realized the entire living room was pitch black except for the dull blue glow coming from the television. Ryan’s features were muted in a pale light, and Seth stumbled over the jeans he’d discarded earlier in the day.
“Sorry about that, man,” he said, picking up the jeans and shirt and tossing them through his bedroom door.
“It’s not like I’ve never spoken to Summer before,” Ryan said.
Seth paused. “I meant the stuff on the floor.”
There was the sound of gunshots from the television, and Seth squinted. “What’re you watching?”
“The Usual Suspects.”
Seth bit his lip and nodded his head. Not that Ryan actually saw him doing this with the whole complete darkness thing.
He shook his head sadly. He was clearly losing it.
He squinted at the screen and grinned when he saw McManus lying on his back next to Fenster in a jail cell.
“Gimme the keys you cocksucker, motherfucker!” Seth shouted suddenly.
And then there was a long pause, wherein Seth closed his eyes and wondered when he’d come down with Tourette’s. When he opened his eyes, Ryan was leaning over the back of the sofa and looking at him intently. His eyes were wide in the faint light from Seth’s room.
“Uh, huh,” was all he said.
Seth nodded his head, again. “Uh, yeah.”
First the first time in weeks, Ryan smiled. Seth grinned back.
“Can I watch?”
“I don’t know, can you?”
Seth was positive that there was no way Ryan meant for that to be as erotic as it sounded to Seth’s sex-starved ears, so he ignored the allusion. “Be right back.”
Eighteen seconds later he returned wearing a certain old gray hoodie and carrying a blanket he’d yanked off his bed.
Climbing over the back of the sofa, he stretched out opposite Ryan and spread the blanket over his bare feet.
Five minutes later he shifted around because an errant spring was poking him in the back.
Five minutes after that he shifted because his leg got cramped.
He went to shift around again, and stopped when Ryan’s hand came down on his arm.
“Stop it,” he said.
Seth froze and his throat closed up. His “sorry” was barely audible.
“Just stay still for five seconds,” Ryan pleaded.
Oh.
Seth nodded his head. He could do that.
Seth woke up with the distinct impression that something was off. He was warm. He was clothed. The room wasn’t spinning, and he felt pretty sure he had fallen asleep in his own apartment, but his pillow was moving.
No, it was breathing.
Seth’s eyes cracked open, and the entire world came into view on a 45-degree slant. Correction: not the world, just him.
His pillow sniffled, and Seth finally understood exactly what paralysis was like as he found a new empathy for Christopher Reeve.
Seth’s eyes darted around as much as they could when he refused to move his neck, and his hands flexed on the blanket spread out on his lap. It was good that his hands were in plain view, that way he couldn’t be accused of doing anything wrong. Not that he’d done anything wrong. He just had the distinct impression that he wanted to or some part of him had been planning something bad. Then again, his morning erection always gave him that impression.
Seth’s pillow snuffled again, and when he tried to pull away, he realized that there were fingers in his hair. Heavy fingers in his hair, which kept him from lifting his head from where it rested on Ryan’s chest, underneath his arm.
Seth’s heart began to beat rapidly, and his brain whirred as it tried get enough warp factor to jump to hyperspace or something.
Clearly Seth was having major issues if he was mixing up Star Wars and Star Trek.
Biting his lip, Seth slowly began to extract himself from the human pillow beside him. The fingers in his hair were the hardest part, and even as he was pulling away, some part of Seth was loudly protesting about his actions.
All those years of dreaming about sleeping with Ryan, and now Seth was trying to get *away*? Clearly he was just as mentally unstable as everybody always said.
Ducking away with the kind of grace he didn’t have 99% of the time, Seth licked his lips and watched Ryan’s chest rise and fall as he breathed.
It was hot.
He was hot.
The whole thing was entirely too erotic for however early it was in the morning. Seth needed to go jerk off, now, or illicit, groping type things were going to happen, and then Ryan would really never forgive him. Seth would get locked away wherever they put guys who couldn’t stop molesting their best friends.
Shaking his head, Seth got to his feet and stepped away from the sofa. He was going to take a shower and then he was going to cook breakfast. For Ryan. Not that he knew how to cook, but it couldn’t possibly be that hard.
It didn’t matter that the only thing that Seth knew how to cook was grilled cheese; he could figure something out. He’d watched Ryan and Rosa cook for years, he had to know something by osmosis if nothing else.
He tamped down hard on the urge to kiss Ryan before he took his shower.
The wrongness of fondling sleeping people aside, nobody deserved morning breath.
Ryan was still asleep when Seth padded into the kitchen wearing a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a tee shirt proclaiming that “tee shirts are over.” His hair fluffed around his head in damp curls, and there was still soap in his ears. It had been a quick shower, and he hadn’t gotten clean so much as he’d just gotten off.
Prioritization was important.
He poked around in the cabinets for a bit, trying to figure out what he could cook that would be impressive, but easy. Ramen noodles didn’t quite measure up, and he wasn’t really that big of a fan of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. The fluorescent orangeness was just wrong.
Eventually, Seth moved to the refrigerator where he found a carton of eggs and half a package of bacon. He removed both from the fridge and set about finding a frying pan to cook in. He’d seen Ryan cook bacon before, and anybody could scramble eggs, he was sure of it.
After a glance at the eggs, Seth also decided that the expiration date was just a suggestion, too. After all who the hell would throw out eggs just because they were a few weeks past date?
Setting the only frying pan he found on the stove, Seth turned the flame underneath it on high heat and unwrapped the bacon. He began laying down the raw slices haphazardly until the bacon began sizzling and popping. He muffled a curse when a bubble of bacon fat popped near the tip of his finger. Obviously he needed a fork or something for this.
Turning away from the bacon, Seth opened the utensil drawer and began poking around for a fork. The only things in their drawer were spoons, chopsticks and plastic knives. None of which would help Seth out. He briefly contemplated using the chopsticks, but his skills weren’t that good.
As the bacon continued to pop and sizzle behind him, Seth took another tour of the kitchen cabinets trying to find a fork. An acrid smell penetrated Seth’s senses, but he figured the stoners across the hall were having their morning Wake & Bake, and carried on with his quest.
He finally found a fork under the dirty dishes in the sink, and had just rinsed it off when the smoke alarm went off behind him.
The blaring siren ripped through Seth’s eardrums like someone had turned an amp to 11. “SHIT!” he shouted when he realized that the bacon wasn’t cooking as much as it was smoking.
Then the fire began.
Seth whirled around the kitchen looking for a fire extinguisher or water or anything. He’d just grabbed a glass of dirty water to throw on the bacon, when he felt strong fingers wrapping around his wrist.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan’s hair was mussed and his eyes were huge.
Seth blinked and shook off two hundred and eight inappropriate thoughts.
“Trying to burn the apartment down, what do you think I’m doing, Fire Marshall Bill?” he snarked, trying to extricate himself from Ryan so they didn’t have to go to prison for arson.
“You can’t throw water on that!” Ryan’s grasp on Seth’s wrist tightened as he put himself between Seth and the flaming bacon.
Seth struggled to get past Ryan, who proceeded to block him by flinging open the refrigerator door and effectively boxing himself in next to the flambéed bacon.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?!” Seth shouted over the din of the smoke alarm as Ryan yanked something out of the fridge and dumped it on the sizzling fire.
They both coughed as the kitchen filled with white powder.
Seth was still coughing when Ryan shut the refrigerator door, and his throat seized up when Ryan’s hands grabbed his forearms and pressed him against the counter next to the sink.
“Don’t. Move,” Ryan ordered. Grabbing several paper towels from the counter, he ran them under water before wrapping them around his hand.
Seth watched in awe as Ryan using the makeshift bandage to push the pan onto another hob, and then turn off the stove.
A voice in Seth’s head made a very undignified noise, and Seth pointedly didn’t say anything about white knights, but still, he had his own superhero. It was very fucking cool.
He wondered briefly if Robin had always felt this way about Batman, and then he thought about Bruce and *Dick* and sniggered to himself.
If Ryan noticed he didn’t say anything, and Seth continued to stay exactly where he was as Ryan left the kitchen, and Seth heard the creaking sound of a window being opened.
The temperature in the apartment dropped by several degrees as the fire alarm kept blaring, and Seth shivered against the counter. He glanced briefly at the powdered gray mess on the stove and sighed loudly.
He jumped when Ryan breezed past him again, this time with a magazine in tow. Standing directly under the alarm, he began waving the magazine back and forth rapidly.
Seth rubbed his hand over his mouth and watched.
“What the hell were you doing?” Ryan’s tone wasn’t quite as sharp as it had been when Seth was playing Arson 101, but he seemed just as confused.
Seth shrugged. “I was trying to cook.”
Ryan shook his head and kept fanning. “I can see that. The question is why? What the hell were you thinking?”
The counter was digging into Seth‘s back, and tentatively he took a step away. “ I was trying to make you breakfast. The rest was just a happy accident.”
Ryan‘s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “A happy accident? Is that what this is?” he said gesturing to the baking soda-saturated bacon.
Seth frowned. “Dude, have you always been this ungrateful?”
Ryan’s arm froze mid-wave. “Ungrateful? *Me*? What -- Why were you trying to cook this for me anyway?”
“Well, it wasn’t to poison you,” Seth snarked. “Despite appearances to the contrary.”
“You could’ve just – cereal would’ve been fine.”
“Well, yeah, but then there would’ve been no groping. I figured if I put myself in jeopardy you’d have to grope me.” Seth tamped down on the Batman comparison.
The alarm finally stopping harping, and Ryan’s arm immediately dropped to his side. The whisper of fabric and paper was the only noise in the entire apartment.
Seth help up his hands. “Joking. I was just joking.”
Ryan tilted his head to the side as though he were looking right through Seth.
“Or not. Okay, I wasn’t, but dude, I was getting desperate.”
Ryan stared. “Desperate for what?”
“You!” Seth said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m going crazy for Cocoa Puffs here, and I can’t keep living with you like this. I’m trying to be good and do what you want, but all this best behavior stuff isn’t me.”
Seth sighed. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”
Ryan’s head snapped up so fast even Seth felt the pain.
“I mean I do, but dude, I want you. Me. Us. I want this thing, and I can’t keep acting like I don’t, and if you’re not my boyfriend when we go home for Thanksgiving Summer is going to do something really really bad to me. She has rage blackouts, Ry; they're not pretty, and I can’t take anymore --”
The impact of the kitchen counter against his spine sent a sharp jolt through Seth’s body, but seeing as Ryan was the one who had wedged him there Seth couldn’t bring himself to complain.
Seth’s dick twitched happily in his jeans, and the little voice in his head began singing all kinds of bad 80’s pop. Seth didn’t even *like* George Michael.
He gripped the counter behind him at the feel of Ryan’s leg pressed between his own for the second time in his life, and he inhaled sharply as Ryan’s hands gripped his waist tightly. “You want *this*?” Ryan asked.
Between the repeated shoving against surfaces and rough timber of Ryan’s voice, Seth’s sense of deja vu had a small stroke, and strangely the only side effect was that swallowing became a very unnatural thing. He nodded.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Fucking hell, yes,” Seth yammered.
When Ryan leaned forward expectantly, Seth pulled his head away. “Wait.”
Ryan‘s grip on Seth tightened fractionally. “What?”
“Don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it. Seriously, dude. If there‘s some guy you have locked in your closet or shackled to your bed or hiding out in Wurster Hall, you better cut him lose because I am so not sharing,” Seth warned. “Not that I think you’d do that, um, yeah. Sorry, I know I had a hypocritical moment there.’
“You know this works both ways, right?” Ryan’s voice was low. “Nobody else, Seth.”
Seth nodded.
When Ryan smiled, Seth’s heart fluttered. “Okay,” he said.
“Okay.”
Seth grinned.
The smile died away as Ryan’s eyes focused on Seth’s mouth, and he licked his lips absently.
Seth dragged his tongue over his bottom lip as he stared at Ryan’s mouth. He was going to kiss Ryan. Ryan was going to kiss him. Again. In the recesses of his brain Seth could hear angels singing and Summer cackling as she collected on her bet.
Leaning forward, he lowered his eyelids slowly, seeking out Ryan’s mouth blindly. The gasp he made as Ryan thrust again him was swallowed up in their kiss, and Seth moaned happily as Ryan’s mouth met his, and Ryan’s erection pressed against his thigh.
When Ryan’s tongue slipped between Seth’s lips, they relaxed into the kiss as though it was something they’d been doing forever instead of something they *should* have been doing forever.
Releasing his hold on the counter, Seth slid his hands along Ryan’s forearms, up bare shoulders and along his neck until his hands cupped Ryan’s face. He held Ryan in place as his tongue thrust into Ryan’s mouth over and over.
When Ryan’s hands slipped from his waist to his ass, Seth tried to wrap his leg around Ryan’s waist. Anything to keep him from getting away again.
Eventually, Ryan pulled away to breathe, but Seth figured he could breathe when he was dead. As one of Ryan’s hands slipped underneath the hem of his shirt and rubbed little circles on his lower back, Seth mouthed his way along the warm column of Ryan’s throat.
He hummed happily when Ryan clutched at his back, and he nipped at Ryan’s earlobe before sucking a dark bruise into the soft spot behind Ryan’s ear.
Ryan hissed Seth’s name plaintively, and when Ryan wriggled in his grasp Seth wrapped his leg that much tighter.
He couldn’t really bring himself to care that he was grinding himself against Ryan like a lap dancer. He couldn’t really think of anybody else who he’d even try something like that for.
He brushed his lips against the shell of Ryan’s ear and rubbed against him hungrily.
Seth’s sense of pride when Ryan shuddered against him was obliterated two seconds later, when Ryan insinuated his right hand between them and rubbed at Seth’s erection with a flat palm and sure fingers. It took Seth approximately 27 seconds to come, and he laughed when Ryan jumped when Seth licked at his neck.
As Ryan stroked his back, Seth sighed contentedly, despite the wet jeans.
“How do you feel about Hawaii?” Seth asked eventually, pulling away to study a flushed face and swollen lips.
Ryan just stared. “How do I feel about what about Hawaii?”
Seth was going to explain, but Ryan had sweat dotting his upper lip and Seth decided he wanted to lick it off. That degenerated into more necking, and Seth deciding that he needed to leave another hickey where Ryan’s neck met his shoulder.
Ryan’s skin tasted salty and was soft under Seth’s wet tongue and sharp teeth.
Ryan twitched. “Seth, what -- are you marking me?”
Seth murmured, but didn’t pull away.
Ryan wriggled underneath Seth’s mouth again, and he smiled into warm skin before pulling away. “So. Hawaii.”
Ryan stared. “You want to talk about *Hawaii*?’
“Yeah, I think we should go.“
Ryan‘s eyes widened. Seth smirked.
“What?” he said. “Don’t you remember the first time you left, and I gave you that map of the Pacific Ocean in case there was some place you wanted to go? I figured we could go to Hawaii. You know, start small and build up to Tahiti. Or Bali. I heard Bali’s good.”
Ryan shook his head. “First, you’re marking me, and now you want to go to Hawaii? How about we do the date thing, first, and then we’ll see about conquering the world, okay?”
Seth shrugged as he leaned forward and nuzzled at Ryan’s neck again. “Whatever you want.”
He sighed as Ryan‘s fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt again to stroke his lower back. “I want you to promise you won’t cook again.”
Seth snorted. “I can do that.”
“And no more skipping poetry.”
“But it’s really boring,” Seth protested.
The grip of Ryan’s left hand on Seth’s waist tightened, and he was reminded of the wet pants currently plastered against his groin.
“Okay, okay, anything else, master?”
“No more other guys.”
Ryan looked at Seth pointedly, and Seth swallowed and nodded. “Nobody else,” he repeated again.
“Good.”
Seth leaned forward to kiss Ryan again and was jarred when Ryan’s stomach rumbled audibly.
He pulled back with a wry grin, and Ryan scratched his head, looking sheepish.
“You’re hungry,” Seth said, stating the obvious.
“Yeah.”
“Me too.”
“McDonalds would be good.”
“It would.”
Ryan gave Seth a meaningful glance. “You want me to get it?“ Seth asked.
Ryan grinned.
“*Now*?” Seth was incredulous.
“Now.”
“You suck.”
“Maybe, if you’re lucky.”
Seth stared. Ryan grinned, again.
Seth extricated himself from Ryan and headed for the front door. He had his hand on the doorknob before he realized he’d forgotten his skateboard. Then he had to go back for his wallet. Then his jacket. And then his jeans began to dry in bad places, and he *had* to go back and change.
The entire time, Ryan stood in the kitchen entranceway and watched.
Finally, Seth was ready to go. He was half way out the door when Ryan called his name.
“Forgetting something?” he asked with a smirk.
Seth dropped everything, went back to the kitchen and kissed Ryan thoroughly.
When he pulled away, Ryan looked extremely dazed.
This time Seth smirked.
“I meant your shoes, man,” Ryan pointed out.
“I knew that,” Seth said.
“Of course you did.”
“Hey, I am all-knowing. God calls me for the lottery numbers.”
Ryan chuckled. “Whatever.”
Seth nodded, went back over to the door, and swiped the shoes he’d dumped there the night before. After he had assembled himself: wallet, jacket, shoes and all, he opened the door and walked out.
Two seconds later, he opened the door and walked back through. Ryan was standing in at the entrance to the kitchen, rubbing his hand over his mouth thoughtfully. He looked up quizzically when the door re-opened.
“You’ll be here when I get back, right?” Seth asked.
Ryan looked puzzled. “Where else would I be?”
“Just checking,” Seth said before he left, again, shutting the door behind him.
There were beer cans on the floor of hallway, and the banister was sticky when Seth mistakenly touched it. The air in the stairwell smelled of stale cigarettes and ramen noodles, and he whistled a few bars from ‘Rock the Casbah’ as he plodded down the stairs.
Outside their building, the sky was blue like Ryan’s eyes and Jamie’s eyes and too many other blue things for Seth to start waxing poetic. There was a slight breeze, but nothing too frigid, and Seth smiled to himself as he wandered over to the curb and dropped his board in the street. It made a cracking sound when it landed, rolled, and righted itself, and Seth took a deep breath before stepping on his board and pushing off.
This was what college was about.
-the end-
ETA: 11/03 Coda: The Last of the Great Navigators
ETA: 11/04 The Story of Jamie and Ian: Check Your Head
Last Notes: *This is the story I was never supposed to be able to write. At least not for real. It’s always nice to prove myself wrong. It wouldn’t have been possible without the following people:
*Jamie. Or as his agent calls him Ryan . He won my heart in ‘The Slaughter Rules’, and you know he almost won Seth, too. I was really undecided for a bit in the Ryan vs. Ryan stakes.
*Rufus Wainwright’s Poses and Doves’ The Last Broadcast. Go. Invest. Your life will be better.
*
ethrosdemon. You made me think this was possible when I swore I couldn’t even get it off the ground. You made this whole story better just by being yourself, even when I wasn’t trying to hear it. Thank you, sweetie. I know I tell you all the time you rock, but really you do.*
serialkarma, my cheerleader and partner-in-crime for this enterprise. Your enthusiasm is second only to your willingness to go along with my insanity. You beta’d, poked, prodded and helped me learn what a plot is. When I was ready to give up, you almost sporked me. All of us heart you. Thank you. * God made the world; the hippies made Berkeley. FYI: * There's a section of freeway in Berkeley that's 80 East and 580 West. Going the other way is 80 West and 580 East. Except that you're traveling more North/South and apparently going both east and west at the same time. Yeah, that’s Berkeley in a nutshell. Thanks for reminding me of that Anna.
*And last, but never least, here’s to everybody’s who’s taken the time to read and send feedback (especially
marleigh, phineasjones, plum_evil, queenofalostart, romanticalgirl and semisuper). You make life a little brighter. Thanks. It’s been real.Bonus Material:
Outtakes
Life is short, Seth. I can’t sit around and wait for you to figure out that Superman is Clark Kent or who the hell you want to be with. (Jamie)
What do you mean Superman is Clark Kent? (Seth)
--
Stoners upstairs during part six, yelling out the window:
Can’t you guys take the drama down to Melrose Place? People are trying to get high here!
---
ethrosdemon on the possibility of Seth and Jamie have sex while Summer watched:
**she would totally want them to have sex in front of her so she could tape it for the sisters
"And, like, this is totally my ex, who is a complete dorkwad, but in a hot, rich way. Check him out blowing that guy! Isn't this the coolest? I totally told you I was going to be voted House Leader this year!"
Music
I realized the other day that there’s so much music in this series that the OC need to hire me as music coordinator. Somebody hook me up! Seriously, for the junkies (like me) who might be interested in burning themselves a soundtrack:
I. Come Pick Me Up – Ryan Adams; Fools Gold – Stone Roses; Rolling with Heat – The Roots
II. The Boy with the Thorn in His Side – Jeff Buckley covering The Smiths; A Song for You – Whiskeytown covering Gram Parsons; One Man Guy – Rufus Wainwright
III. You Got Me – The Roots feat Jill Scott; I Can – Nas; The Last Broadcast – Doves; Sympathy for the Devil – The Rolling Stones (remixed by the Neptunes); In Bloom – Nirvana
IV. Caught by the River – Doves; All Apologies – Nirvana; Sour Times – Portishead; Mojo Pin – Jeff Buckley
V. A Movie Script Ending – Death Cab for Cutie; Touch of Grey – The Grateful Dead; Miracles – Matt Nathanson
VI. Title Fight – The Charlatans; I Shot the Sheriff – Bob Marley; Redemption Song – Bob Marley; Bittersweet Symphony – The Verve
VII. Train in Vain – The Clash; I Wanna be Sedated – The Ramones; 19-2000 – Gorillaz; P.I.M.P. –50 Cent; Elevators - Outkast
VIII. The Man That Got Away – Jeff Buckley; Check the Rhime – A Tribe Called Quest; Island in the Sun – Weezer; Reservations – Wilco; Crazy About You – Whiskeytown; The Way Young Lovers Do –Van Morrison
XI. Everything in its Right Place – Radiohead; K-os – Superstarr, part one; Talib Kweli – Get By; Angel – Massive Attack; Rock the Casbah – The Clash
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 09:37 am (UTC)By the time Fox's version of Ryan and Seth get to college, I hope you're there to tell this story for them.
(As Marge Simpson would say, "You know, Fox turned into a hardcore sex channel so gradually, I didn't even notice.")
Brava.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 03:42 pm (UTC)*dies laughing*
By the time Fox's version of Ryan and Seth get to college, I hope you're there to tell this story for them.
I think would only happen if they moved to Showtime, but you never know. I'm glad you enjoyed the story so much. Thanks for all your support.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 09:39 am (UTC)My most favorite line EVER anywhere: It had been a quick shower, and he hadn’t gotten clean so much as he’d just gotten off.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 03:43 pm (UTC)You are a demanding little girl, you know that? Now HP or this? Make up your mind.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:Just when I think I couldn't worship you more
Date: 2003-10-29 09:44 am (UTC)And Seth would so suck at cooking.
What do you mean Superman is Clark Kent? (Seth)
hee, hee.
Re: Just when I think I couldn't worship you more
Date: 2003-10-29 03:44 pm (UTC)What a lovely thing to say, thank you so much for all your kind words about the story. I'm so glad you've enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 09:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 03:47 pm (UTC)Oh, thank you so much. What a lovely thing to say about the story. I appreciate all the kind comments you've made.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 09:56 am (UTC)not happiness that its over but happiness that OC is back tonight.)
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 10:10 am (UTC)And yeah, I think I'm going to have to make me that TA soundtrack. Soon.
last but not least: spork! sporksporksporkspork!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 03:52 pm (UTC)You *know* this would be nothing without you. You betad and betad again, and were like the best cheerleader, plus, Ian! *sighs* Ian. So. Once I get feeling back in my fingers Jamie/Ian?
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 10:12 am (UTC)Fuck, man.
When you decide (even against your will) to write an epic, you don't fuck around. You nailed the perfect combination of angst, lust, resolution, more angst, fulfillment, clueless boys, and porn. Plus, great characterizations and original characters and soundtrack. You had me all rooting for Jamie for the first couple of chapters, until I realized the truth of the OTP (the, um, 'T,' as it were. hrm.) of Seth/Ryan (right around the time I read the rest of your OC stuff. Damn you.), but ohh, you gave Jamie another chance with Hott Drumstick Boy and then finally with the Batman and Robin resolution... I'm all glowy with the happy endings all around.
I'm torn between being bitter and being relieved that The OC conflicts with my personal crack The West Wing and that my TV & VCR are too ancient to watch one and tape the other; I'm so sucked into the world now (again I will say, damn you!) and I want to watch it for real, but I also know that the show just wouldn't be as good as your
crackfic and I'd keep hoping for hookups that just wouldn't happen and I'd be all pissy and disappointed. Best just to reread TA several times instead.This is painfully inadequate praise for a story that pretty much made my day in advance when last night I thought, "ooh! Maybe she'll post the last chapter of TA tomorrow!" And now it's made my day for real. It is, indeed, you who rocks the casbah.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 03:56 pm (UTC)I'm not an OTP'r as much as I'm an 'Oooh, Pretty-er.' And for a while I had every desire to make this Jamie/Seth, which I suppose is pretty obvious in a few sections, but Ryan. It's kind of hard to say no to him and his dejected, wounded thing. Why is that such a turn-on? Ack. I'll think about that at another time.
I'm truly touched by all your kind words, and I appreciate you taking the time out to tell me how much you enjoyed the story. All you support means a lot to me. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 10:24 am (UTC)(Btw,
And yay! The nine parts of this have turned me from fan of the OC to the kind of fan who needs to have all the episodes at her fingertips for watching over and over again and helplessly reading more and more OC slash if only to get a similar buzz as this incredibly wonderful story.
Thank you so much!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 12:50 pm (UTC)Ahem.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 10:30 am (UTC)Thank you for proving yourself wrong.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 10:42 am (UTC): )
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:05 pm (UTC)I heart Rufus. I had to show him some love, and I'm glad you enjoyed the story, thanks for commenting!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 10:55 am (UTC)You're an incredibly creative person and an amazing writer, my dear. You're the type of writer that writers like me dream of being like.
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:06 pm (UTC)I did that, too! The reading parts 1-9, but mine was more for error checking, so, um, yeah. It's quite a lot to read at one time though, isn't it? I don't know how people do this regularly. *shakes head*
Thank you for all your kind words!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 10:56 am (UTC)You know, this series is brilliant. In a way, I'm glad it's over, so I don't have to keep waiting for new parts; but I'm going to miss reading it anew. I love it.
(I knew he was going to choose Ryan!)
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:07 pm (UTC)*laughs* *You're* glad it's over? You have no idea how glad *I* am.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 11:13 am (UTC)I was also totally pissed that Jamie got back together with his ex (1) because he told Seth he wouldn't and that they were just friends and (2) because Ian is *totally* wrong for Jamie.
And then I realized how much you had really accomplished in writing this when I was that invested in secondary characters.
Well done. Very, very well done.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 02:15 pm (UTC)He did? When was this? I certainly don't rememeber anything of the sort. I don't remember Jamie saying they were just friends, either, and I just re-read the whole thing yesterday. Now what Jamie *did* say was that he would never cheat on Seth, which he didn't. But he also dumped Seth because Seth couldn't get his shit together, which is perfectly within his rights.
Also, what makes you think that Ian is wrong for Jamie? Has he done something to offend you that I don't know about?
(no subject)
From:Who rocks? You rock!
Date: 2003-10-29 11:25 am (UTC)This fic is what got me through the long O.C.-free hiatus. Now, that it's back, no matter what happens on the show, I'll always know that it'll all work out for the boys in college.
And I'm so making a Telegraph Ave. mix when I get home tonight.
Now I'm imagining Jamie/Ian. Mmmmm. If you ever feel like writing that one of these days, you'll get absolutely no objection from me.
Re: Who rocks? You rock!
Date: 2003-10-29 04:09 pm (UTC)*grins* My sentiments exactly. Marissa who? Anna what? Summer? Oh, she's okay.
Now I'm imagining Jamie/Ian. Mmmmm. If you ever feel like writing that one of these days, you'll get absolutely no objection from me.
*laughs* Funny you mention that...
Re: Who rocks? You rock!
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 11:29 am (UTC)I'm been fawning over you so much lately that I'm starting to feel like a stalker. I loved this story *so* much. I'm almost relieved it is done; it has been a huge distraction in my life since I came across the story. By tomorrow I'll be sad again that there is nothing new, but for now my world is ::bliss::.
Thank you so much for your herculean efforts here. Thanks also to erthosdemon and serialkarma for helping you along this path.
Sweet feeling of fulfillment and contentment. Happy now.
... they relaxed into the kiss as though it was something they'd been doing forever instead of something they *should* have been doing forever.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:13 pm (UTC)I know the feeling about the huge distraction. As much as I love TA and am proud to have finally written something longer than 25 pages, I am so "thank god, this shit is done."
You've been so supportive and I appreciate that a lot, thank you so much for reading and commenting on the story.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 11:50 am (UTC)*throws Seth a pity party*
God, he sounds so much like me. And you wonder why I over-identify.
This. Was. Amazing. I am the world's biggest sucker for a fairytale ending and you've given it to us in buckets. Big five gallon buckets of love.
I have no idea why you thanked me, because I am seriously the worst feedbacker ever, but you made me blush, missy. Just you wait until FoNY is done.
I paused my download of tonight's OC for this fic, if that says anything. I'm going to go back to it right now and make some icons.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:16 pm (UTC)*throws Seth a pity party*
God, he sounds so much like me. And you wonder why I over-identify.
Yes, but let's not forget the following lines where Ryan nearly strangles Seth (or maybe that was just me) for not realizing that *everybody* wants him. *shakes head* Some people just can't take hints. I bet you're like that too, huh? For this people like you, I'd like to point out this lovely icon that *somebody* made for me earlier in the day.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 12:18 pm (UTC)Thank you for sharing your astounding talent.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:18 pm (UTC)I know what you mean, for the longest time I was all about Jamie too. I hope to write an Alternate Ending one day, because damnit, it's my story and I want to.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 12:18 pm (UTC)Thank you for making the hiatus bearable. *happy sigh*
Does this mean you can write more Everwood now? ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:20 pm (UTC)Thank you for making the hiatus bearable. *happy sigh*
Does this mean you can write more Everwood now? ;)
I think I will leave writing Everwood to the professionals *stares pointedly* and perhaps see where my HP boys are at. Everybody got very vexed with me when there was this massive influx of boys who said "dude."
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 12:25 pm (UTC)Definitely sad to see this one finished, but I'm beyond thrilled at the way things were resolved. I definitely will be keeping an eye out for whatever your next fic may be.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:23 pm (UTC)Definitely sad to see this one finished, but I'm beyond thrilled at the way things were resolved. I definitely will be keeping an eye out for whatever your next fic may be.
My next story will be about me plunging my hands in buckets of ice because they were killing me after all this typing. Or something like that.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 12:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 01:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:27 pm (UTC)I once watched a repeat of an old episode of Batman where they had Liberace performing. I'm thinking if he could recognize the gay, there's no way Seth couldn't.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 01:01 pm (UTC)They needed to put that disclaimer in the brochure.
Hee. I appreciate that. I love your writing, like Seth loves Ryan :)
I'm sad to see this series end because it's been incredible. It'll be so strange tonight (!) when they aren't together and they're still in high school and they've never heard of anyone named Jamie... Sigh. They seriously need to hook you up with a job on the show. It'd get even better than it already is. Hoo-rah for you! Nice end to a great series.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 04:28 pm (UTC)*laughs* I keep hearing that (about Jamie on the O.C.) and honestly I'm not sure if my heart could take that kind of strain. But maybe they should find out *winks* I'm glad you enjoyed the story. I appreciate you commenting.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 01:20 pm (UTC)You may not have thought of your story as inspirational, but I find that my inspiration comes from the strangest places sometimes. Thank you so very much not only for proving yourself wrong, but sharing your success with us as well.
*sits quietly in awe*
no subject
Date: 2003-10-30 09:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-29 02:06 pm (UTC)That first sentence had me laughing out loud, joyous with anticipation for the funny. The last sentence in the paragraph gave me hope for the schmoop.
Well done. Seriously. This fic is so good that I rec'd it to my little sister, who loves the OC but is unfamiliar with the thing we call slash. I didn't think ANYTHING would get me to rec slash to my sister. (she's only little to me)
Seriously, for the junkies (like me) who might be interested in burning themselves a soundtrack:
Do you know, I started this list myself? Thanks for saving me the work! I love soundtracks and having music to go with stories (I've been creating my own personal soundtrack since 1981, thanks) and I can't wait to put this one together. (listening to Death Cab right now... and I get to see them on Sunday!)
no subject
Date: 2003-10-30 09:51 am (UTC)The family that slashes together, can watch television together. This is why I do not watch TV with my family. However, I have corrupted the majority of my friends to the point where they're pointing out slash that I never even thought of.