light up//light up//as if you have a choice//even if you cannot hear my voice
We had a snow day on Friday.
I did nothing on my list that I wanted to do for this weekend.
My Dad told me he's moving to New Jersey (wtf?).
I can't really be bothered to think to right now, so umm, fic that came into my head about 20 seconds ago, instead.
Inspiriation:
The Ex-Factor:
Lindsay: You said it, everyone has an ex, and you sure seem to hang out with yours a lot.
AU, obviously, second person, grammatical errors, semi- R/M. Or friendship (but not really because sex rules all) No sexual undertones but some 'relationship' undertones. Actually, yes, I take that back. A teeny weeny sexual undertone. But you have to be quick to catch it.
Untitled
The both of you walk along the pier, a balboa dripping down each of your hands as you each try to get in a quick lick. You don't get what's so great about them. You've lived in Newport your whole life and you still don't get what makes an overpriced ice cream bar so delicious to everyone else but you. It has this weird smell after it's unwrapped and immediately starts to drip after the second lick. But when he asked you to go out for a balboa bar, you smiled over the phone and started prancing around at the invite.
You smile again when you see he has completely given up on his, throwing it away and wiping his mouth off with his collar.
"Ryan, your sleeve?" You giggle and hold up your arm, showcasing your sleeve for effect, throwing away your own shit on a stick as you both lean against the railing overlooking the beach.
You stare at it for awhile. Blue, kinda green sometimes...but your thought is interrupted by a short snort from Ryan. You smile, despite yourself, covering your mouth in case half of the balboa bar had landed somewhere on your face you couldn't quite place.
"Kinda weird, isn't it?" He speaks before you have a chance to react to his previous snort.
You tilt your head to the side and look at him in confusion. "What's weird?"
"Us." His hands grip the railing tighter and he leans back, looking at you. "Being here. After...everything." He looks at you again, smirking.
You shrug in what you hope is a nonchalant manner, and turn to look back at the empty blue again. "I guess."
"Ahh, well..." You hear him say, looking at his body which is still away from the rail, though his hands are still gripped firmly on the gray pole.
"This is nice..." You manage, turning to look at him, still in his previous position. He smiles but his eyes give off something different as he leans back onto the rail. "What's nice?"
"Us. Being able to be..."
"Friends?"
"Yeah. Friends. I never thought you'd fo--" Something tells you to stop talking, especially about this subject. "Right, well..." Moment of awkward pause, "so you and Lindsay seem happy."
He turns to look at you, confused but still wearing a smile. "I guess we are?"
"That's good. I mean...it's cool that she's cool with us hanging out like this."
"Like...what exactly?"
"Like...exes," you finish. He smiles and doesn't say anything else for a few minutes.
"DJ?" He growls, not really wanting to ask. You move a little closer to the railing, not really wanting the people next to you to hear about your odd relationship with the yard guy. "We're okay...I guess."
Too many "I guess's". Stop it, Marissa.
"We're better than okay, we're great."
"Great? Really?" Ryan's looking confused now, somewhat unprepared for the addition to your lame answer. You nod simply and hug the thin jacket over yourself a little more. He knows you're lying and you know he's lying about Lindsay.
DJ will probably be deported in a week, 2 max, and Lindsay is just...Lindsay. He lets out a laugh--not too loud or too soft--and wraps his arm around you for about five seconds, squeezing your shoulder for emphasis.
Not too sure what to do, (you are sure, just not sure how to retaliate in what could be considered 'friendly' instead of 'flirting') you nudge your shoulder into this. Being about an inch shorter comes to your advantage for once as you can lean up perfectly against the same heighted, broad shoulder without going under his arm. Making this, of course, inappropriate if he had his arm around you.
Which he doesn't.
Good.
"Is this weird because of where we're standing?" You ask quietly, noticing the sun has gone down subtly throughout this exchange. He nods, not moving. "I think so."
He sighs, as if remembering then turns to look down. "That was a good night." He smiles as he looks up again, and he's blushing the slightest bit. Your arm goes a little further into his navy blue button down as you nod in agreement. You don't think he'll bring up the kiss, after all, this is Ryan.
"And the kiss wasn't half bad, either," he teases. He pushes you back a little bit and you get the idea, crossing your arms over the railing. You try not to look hurt as you roll your eyes teasingly and respond with: "Well, we've had better."
He laughs and you feel comfortable enough again to smile. "And we can probably do better," you end up saying. Was that...did you just...
You see his arms are crossed over on the railing in hopes of getting a little warmer, so you look over slowly. He leans in just like he did last year and you find your noses touching, as well as foreheads sticking violently to each other. Did he just lick his lips? Why...
"Ryan..." You say quietly, moving your head in further, your lips no further than a few mere centimenters from his. He replies with a whisper of a "mmhmm" and you lean in even more. You can feel the few slight hairs from spots he had missed shaving and close your eyes. If this kiss was actually going to happen, he needed to shave that off. There was no way your lips were going to be red and scratchy because of his. Your eyes open suddenly and you kiss the corner of his mouth. You feel the ends of his lips turning up and you already know what's coming next. But just move away a little...just a little...
"Marissa..."
His tone is supposed to be telling you that this is wrong (which it is) but there's not supposed to be some weird longing there...that's wrong.
You lean back, wiping your lips and leaning over in habit to wipe his as well. "Right..." You clutch your purse tighter to your chest and close your eyes regretfully. But when you open your eyes for the 100th time that night, his eyes don't give away that he'll tell so you give him an awkward smile and start to walk away. He follows with his eyes and you blink awkwardly, pointing somewhere. "I'm gonna go get...another...balboa bar."
With a swift turn, you start to walk in the direction of the Balboa Bar Stand to null over what just happened with Newport's finest shit on a stick.
END
lolz. how random. Literally took me 15 minutes to write. But either this bugged me forever (or until it died inside my head a few weeks from now) or ... yeah, I'd go crazy because I think there needs to be more of these with the whole 'r/m' but what about dj/li time fics. And, yes, I made fun of the balboa bar. Mmk, so tomorrow's Monday which leads me to a complete week of torture. Enjoy your week before holiday breakkkkkkkk.+ 3 days next week ;)