We are half of the equation (deleted scene)
Part 1 of the fic.
AN: This scene never made it farther, in the main body of the fic, than Ryan's dialogue in the middle. But I quite like some of that, and I was bored, so decided to repurpose it from Simon's POV. Which wouldn't have fit the fest, but I do enjoy, plus we have a little dirty talk, and also schmoop, which is fun.
So this was originally sometime between the sex scene and the last one, but served some of the same purpose as the last Idol scene. Here, it would go sometime after the end of the fic, but probably only a few weeks.
Oh, and unbetaed obviously!
Sometimes, Simon wishes they would remember that this is a competition. It’s the weekend before the final, and this year’s top ten are all assembled back in LA. In the backroom of an exclusive club. At the show’s expense.
It isn’t even as though Simon can amuse himself watching the small rivalries explode into full-blown feuds. They’re all so nice. Friendly. Even Angie and Thomas - who are the final two after all.
Ryan is wandering through them - like Paula - fond of them all, wishing they could all be successful.
Simon watches Ryan with some of the younger contestants. They’re the ones still in high school, or just out of it. Simon tunes into the conversation in time to hear Thomas say, “But some of the guys, it’s like, I don’t even know what I did to-”
“Nobody ever does anything,” Ryan says. “It’s just high school, it’s the way things work.”
“Not for everyone.”
“For at least half of Hollywood, I swear to you.”
Casey quirks an eyebrow at Ryan. “This place is full of rock stars and actors.”
“Who were band and Drama club geeks. Who were scrawny, and strange, or overweight and had braces, or glasses. Who were…” Ryan trails off, “you know. Or more than one of those at once.”
There’s an awkward, shuffling, nodding agreement amongst the kids. Idol doesn’t tend to attract the jock/cheerleader type. They have their moments, but generally the younger ones who apply are the ones who don’t quite fit, and the older ones are the ones who haven’t quite made it yet.
Ryan tilts his head with a little smile. “It’s more than that, you know. It’s… caring about something that no one else cares about. Not when you’re sixteen. The perfect G above middle C, or the right way to hit E flat diminished ninth. B-sides of a record that no one you know has ever heard…”
Simon walks over to Ryan and knocks against his shoulder. “Long retired disc-jockeys.”
Ryan laughs. “Those too. Other people don’t get that.”
Simon says, “And no more they should. You’re just peculiar. Happily, however, you found your home in an equally peculiar city. And I’m sure you proved everybody who ever doubted you wrong, blah blah blah.”
“That’s the great thing,” Ryan says, looking at Thomas again, and at the other kids. “Because now you’re here. You can be whatever you want. And one day, yeah, you’re going to see one of those guys from high school. And you are going to be so so tempted to rub it in their faces. I would go with that instinct.”
The kids burst into shocked laughter. Angie says, “You didn’t?!”
Simon’s looking at Ryan now too.
Ryan flushes. “Well, no. Of course not. But I should have. Since I have this reputation for being kind of a jerk anyway.” Someone’s gaze must drift towards Simon, because Ryan turns around to him again, and grins. “No, Simon’s reputation is more for being kind of an asshole.”
“I tell the truth,” Simon says, “which is something this town and this country pretends it can’t abide, when secretly it wants it more than almost anything else. Who am I to deny that?” He taps his fingers on the back of Ryan’s chair. “Now, fun as this has been, I do need to go I’m afraid.”
“You’re working tomorrow?” Ryan asks.
“Conference call at five a.m. pacific time.”
The expression on Ryan’s face is wicked.
“What?” Simon asks.
“I don’t have to work tomorrow.”
“Don’t you have that...?”
“At three, yeah. But it’s only an hour, and they’re coming to me. That barely counts.”
“And so you’re gloating.”
“How often do I get a morning off, when you have to work?”
Simon nods, and concedes the point. Ryan stands up, reaching to the back of the chair for his coat. Simon looks at him.
“I’m coming,” Ryan says. “Give me a minute to say bye to the kids.”
“You don’t need to leave just because I am.”
“I know.”
Ryan covers Simon’s shoulder with his hand, before going to say his farewells. It’s Ryan, so there’s a lot of hugging and back-slapping, but they do eventually make it out of the building, and into Simon’s car.
They go back to Ryan’s house, because it is nearer, and because they stayed at Simon’s the previous night.
Simon can see Ryan through the bathroom door, brushing his teeth. He’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts, preparing to go to bed. Ryan glances up at the mirror, and meets Simon’s eyes. He spits, shielding the reflection with his body, and then smiles at Simon in the mirror.
Simon catches him before he reaches the bed.
“Mmm!” Ryan protests, halfway to giggling as Simon rolls him onto the sheets. “What? What did I do?”
Simon pushes Ryan’s t-shirt up his chest. He rubs the outline of Ryan’s cock through the thin shorts. Simon holds one of Ryan’s hands against the bed, and kisses him.
Ryan’s question changes to, “What was that for?”
“Nothing,” Simon admits. “It’s just that I rather enjoy the fact that you’re not as permanently likeable as you pretend. And while there are a great number of ridiculous or completely idiotic things about this town, any one of which would be good reason to run away screaming and never come back, I’m still rather glad I ended up working here. And because you’re some of the reason for that.”
“Just some?” Ryan asks, managing a smirk.
“You couldn’t handle being more than ‘some’.”
Simon skims the t-shirt the rest of the way off, and runs his hands down Ryan’s bare arms. Underneath the skin, Ryan is tensed up. Confused, a little, and wound up tight as a spring. He had been calm before, smiling at Simon across the room. Simon will put him back in a better condition than he found him.
He slides down the bed, counting on Ryan remaining where Simon put him. Ryan leans up on his elbows, to look at Simon in a query.
Simon answers him: “I’m going to suck you off until you lose coherent thought and, unlike you and your half-hearted attempts, I fully intend to swallow.”
“O-kay.” Ryan lies back down. “And after that?”
“After that, I’m either going to fuck you through the mattress, or go to sleep, because as I said, I do have to work in the morning.” Simon inches his hand further past Ryan’s waistband. Ryan’s fingers twitch restlessly against the sheets. Simon kisses him again: lips, jaw, neck.
Ryan murmurs, “Okay then. As long as you have a plan.”
Really FIN
AN: This scene never made it farther, in the main body of the fic, than Ryan's dialogue in the middle. But I quite like some of that, and I was bored, so decided to repurpose it from Simon's POV. Which wouldn't have fit the fest, but I do enjoy, plus we have a little dirty talk, and also schmoop, which is fun.
So this was originally sometime between the sex scene and the last one, but served some of the same purpose as the last Idol scene. Here, it would go sometime after the end of the fic, but probably only a few weeks.
Oh, and unbetaed obviously!
Sometimes, Simon wishes they would remember that this is a competition. It’s the weekend before the final, and this year’s top ten are all assembled back in LA. In the backroom of an exclusive club. At the show’s expense.
It isn’t even as though Simon can amuse himself watching the small rivalries explode into full-blown feuds. They’re all so nice. Friendly. Even Angie and Thomas - who are the final two after all.
Ryan is wandering through them - like Paula - fond of them all, wishing they could all be successful.
Simon watches Ryan with some of the younger contestants. They’re the ones still in high school, or just out of it. Simon tunes into the conversation in time to hear Thomas say, “But some of the guys, it’s like, I don’t even know what I did to-”
“Nobody ever does anything,” Ryan says. “It’s just high school, it’s the way things work.”
“Not for everyone.”
“For at least half of Hollywood, I swear to you.”
Casey quirks an eyebrow at Ryan. “This place is full of rock stars and actors.”
“Who were band and Drama club geeks. Who were scrawny, and strange, or overweight and had braces, or glasses. Who were…” Ryan trails off, “you know. Or more than one of those at once.”
There’s an awkward, shuffling, nodding agreement amongst the kids. Idol doesn’t tend to attract the jock/cheerleader type. They have their moments, but generally the younger ones who apply are the ones who don’t quite fit, and the older ones are the ones who haven’t quite made it yet.
Ryan tilts his head with a little smile. “It’s more than that, you know. It’s… caring about something that no one else cares about. Not when you’re sixteen. The perfect G above middle C, or the right way to hit E flat diminished ninth. B-sides of a record that no one you know has ever heard…”
Simon walks over to Ryan and knocks against his shoulder. “Long retired disc-jockeys.”
Ryan laughs. “Those too. Other people don’t get that.”
Simon says, “And no more they should. You’re just peculiar. Happily, however, you found your home in an equally peculiar city. And I’m sure you proved everybody who ever doubted you wrong, blah blah blah.”
“That’s the great thing,” Ryan says, looking at Thomas again, and at the other kids. “Because now you’re here. You can be whatever you want. And one day, yeah, you’re going to see one of those guys from high school. And you are going to be so so tempted to rub it in their faces. I would go with that instinct.”
The kids burst into shocked laughter. Angie says, “You didn’t?!”
Simon’s looking at Ryan now too.
Ryan flushes. “Well, no. Of course not. But I should have. Since I have this reputation for being kind of a jerk anyway.” Someone’s gaze must drift towards Simon, because Ryan turns around to him again, and grins. “No, Simon’s reputation is more for being kind of an asshole.”
“I tell the truth,” Simon says, “which is something this town and this country pretends it can’t abide, when secretly it wants it more than almost anything else. Who am I to deny that?” He taps his fingers on the back of Ryan’s chair. “Now, fun as this has been, I do need to go I’m afraid.”
“You’re working tomorrow?” Ryan asks.
“Conference call at five a.m. pacific time.”
The expression on Ryan’s face is wicked.
“What?” Simon asks.
“I don’t have to work tomorrow.”
“Don’t you have that...?”
“At three, yeah. But it’s only an hour, and they’re coming to me. That barely counts.”
“And so you’re gloating.”
“How often do I get a morning off, when you have to work?”
Simon nods, and concedes the point. Ryan stands up, reaching to the back of the chair for his coat. Simon looks at him.
“I’m coming,” Ryan says. “Give me a minute to say bye to the kids.”
“You don’t need to leave just because I am.”
“I know.”
Ryan covers Simon’s shoulder with his hand, before going to say his farewells. It’s Ryan, so there’s a lot of hugging and back-slapping, but they do eventually make it out of the building, and into Simon’s car.
They go back to Ryan’s house, because it is nearer, and because they stayed at Simon’s the previous night.
Simon can see Ryan through the bathroom door, brushing his teeth. He’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts, preparing to go to bed. Ryan glances up at the mirror, and meets Simon’s eyes. He spits, shielding the reflection with his body, and then smiles at Simon in the mirror.
Simon catches him before he reaches the bed.
“Mmm!” Ryan protests, halfway to giggling as Simon rolls him onto the sheets. “What? What did I do?”
Simon pushes Ryan’s t-shirt up his chest. He rubs the outline of Ryan’s cock through the thin shorts. Simon holds one of Ryan’s hands against the bed, and kisses him.
Ryan’s question changes to, “What was that for?”
“Nothing,” Simon admits. “It’s just that I rather enjoy the fact that you’re not as permanently likeable as you pretend. And while there are a great number of ridiculous or completely idiotic things about this town, any one of which would be good reason to run away screaming and never come back, I’m still rather glad I ended up working here. And because you’re some of the reason for that.”
“Just some?” Ryan asks, managing a smirk.
“You couldn’t handle being more than ‘some’.”
Simon skims the t-shirt the rest of the way off, and runs his hands down Ryan’s bare arms. Underneath the skin, Ryan is tensed up. Confused, a little, and wound up tight as a spring. He had been calm before, smiling at Simon across the room. Simon will put him back in a better condition than he found him.
He slides down the bed, counting on Ryan remaining where Simon put him. Ryan leans up on his elbows, to look at Simon in a query.
Simon answers him: “I’m going to suck you off until you lose coherent thought and, unlike you and your half-hearted attempts, I fully intend to swallow.”
“O-kay.” Ryan lies back down. “And after that?”
“After that, I’m either going to fuck you through the mattress, or go to sleep, because as I said, I do have to work in the morning.” Simon inches his hand further past Ryan’s waistband. Ryan’s fingers twitch restlessly against the sheets. Simon kisses him again: lips, jaw, neck.
Ryan murmurs, “Okay then. As long as you have a plan.”
Really FIN