(no subject)
Welcome to the meta, bitch! Pt 3. Section 1
Ryan doesn’t spend the night at Summer’s, even though she offers. They’re at an easy place where she can offer and he can decline and neither gives much of a shit one way or another. He’s glad things went like that, glad that the new groove is smooth, without that twisting, upset stomach burble he always got from Marissa.
Summer’s like the girls he knew at home: if she thinks something, she’ll say so. He doesn’t have to worry with her that there’s more under the water than sand and fish.
Seth isn’t home when he gets there, and Sandy’s multitasking in a whirlwind of busywork-eating, talking on the phone, typing on his computer, shuffling papers-that Ryan gets is his way of coping.
Ryan’s wearing orange boardshorts with that stylistic, “California” flower pattern O.P. probably invented because his jeans are somewhere on the tide. Sandy lifts his eyebrows and mouths “New look?” Ryan makes a face he hopes passes for normal, because his teeth still feel like they’re rubber and his throat’s chalky and he can’t lie to Sandy.
He can't even consider lying to him, so he tries to be cool booking ass into the pool house.
It’s still early, but the guilt’s right there, waiting. Waiting for the hum to fade from his thoughts and the feel of Summer’s skin to slide off him, so he hits the shower and takes an Ambien before he can out think himself.
*
He busts Seth watching the finale of The Valley when he gets up around eleven and goes for coffee. Seth flicks the t.v. to The Justice League with his forced “cool” look that’s mostly shifty eyes and bitten lip.
“Dude, seriously, when did you start sleepwalking?”
This can’t be good. Ryan keeps his back to Seth as he pours himself a cup of coffee and waits for the rest of the information to tumble out of Seth.
“And on the list of cool sleep-walking type activities? Eating cereal way down on the list.”
Ryan turns around, sipping his coffee, and raises his eyebrows. “Huh.”
Seth’s in his bathrobe, an expectant look floating on his face. But Ryan’s got nothing.
“Sleepwalking, huh?” Hayley prowls into the kitchen, hair a rat’s nest, circles under her eyes-yeah, she’s clean. Right. Ryan shrugs a little.
“You didn’t strike me as the pill-head type.”
Hayley is a pain in his ass.
“Excuse me, what? Pill-what? Ryan, man?” Seth’s working up into a scene, and Ryan looks closer, past the surface of Seth-in-the-morning, and he sees something else there.
“What’d you do last night?” Seth likes to talk about Seth; Ryan knows this will deflect him.
“Oh, man. Zach and me went to this party in Silverlake, and it was off the -- insert street slang that I promised never again to utter.”
Hayley squints at Ryan around her orange juice. He doesn’t care if she gets the dynamic here as long as she keeps her mouth shut. She can hate him or distrust him or whatever else her fucking issues are, but she isn’t screwing things up with Seth and him. He’s handling this.
“What’re you doing today?” Ryan finishes his coffee, feels slow and like his bones are barely holding his body together.
Seth tilts his chin to his chest. “Well, Ryan, I was thinking of a very challenging day ahead…”
“Me kicking your ass at Splinter Cell?”
“Got it in one.” Seth snaps his fingers, and Ryan mentally flips Hayley off.
*
Ryan’s thinking about breaking for dinner-he’s thinking oysters-when Seth starts squirming in his seat in a clear signal he’s done something stupid and needs Ryan to rescue him.
“What did you do?” Ryan pauses the game and stares at the frozen screen.
“Uh…what makes you…you know me too well, Ry.” Ry, yeah, it’s a serious fuck up.
But Ryan can be generous considering he isn’t exactly free of those in the last twenty-four.
“Spill.”
“Have you ever heard of this little game I like to call Truth or Dare?”
Ryan’s relieved. They aren’t talking prison time or grievous bodily injury. “Seth.”
“I lost a dare and I have to make out with a guy. Ok, I said it.” It all streams out in one long word. “And, like, I couldn’t make out with Zach, man, I mean I have to work with him on the comic and he plays water polo and I have standards -- well, in theory I have standards, and I claimed to have standards, so they gave me a twenty-four hour reprieve.”
Ryan clicks through all of that. “So, you can just tell them you did it?” He doesn’t look away from the television; he gives Seth that much room, grabs himself that much space to pretend like he’ll say anything besides yes.
“Yeah, well, worst part yet to come!” Seth sighs dramatically. “They have to record it.” Of course. There are a few things Ryan has yet to accomplish in his career as a self-defeating, self-destructive, white-trash waster: internet porn is one of them. He sees no other reason for them wanting to record the action besides to put it on-line. Ryan rolls his eyes. Great.
“Hurry up and finish that game, Cohen, I want to play Katamari Damacy.” Ryan glances over at Seth when he hears Summer’s voice. Seth looks like he’s choking on -- Ryan’s mind blames Summer for that image, thanks, Summer.
Seth pops off the couch and practically runs out of the room.
Summer’s wearing a yellow and white three-quarter sleeved shirt and white shorts so minimal they really only qualify as shorts because they’re on the outside of her clothes. “What’s his damage now?” She flops onto the couch smacking her gum and rolling her eyes.
“If this were a fanfic, Seth would have been dared to make out with a guy on video tape and asked me to do it.” Their eyes meet, and mainly Ryan’s glad they can look each other in the eye. She doesn’t say anything. “At a party in Silverlake.” He knows she’s wondering that part.
“Silverlake? Finally something worthwhile came out of that hole!” Summer laughs, bobs her head excitedly. “I’m so there.”
“I didn’t invite you.” He gets up to swap all the equipment so Summer can play her game.
“Oh, you so did.”
With his back turned to her he allows himself a grin. Yeah, he so did.
“Cohen’s totally gay for you.” Ryan has nothing to say to that besides maybe, but he’s not going to give that to Summer.
*
Seth, needless to say, isn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of Summer tagging along.
“No, no -- there’s no word to even express the no of it all. Let me coin one nokashinono.”
Ryan waited to spring this on him until Seth his has keys in his hand and Zach and Summer are chatting it up in the living room. The manic look in Seth’s eyes makes him want to crack up, but he plasters on his zen face and talks Seth off the ledge.
“Seth, do you want to go out there and tell Summer no?” That stills him. Seth makes imploring face number three, but Ryan’s not going to let his guilt ruin this perfect moment of revenge on Seth for putting him in this position to begin with. “I’m not doing it.”
“Ry…” Ryan shuts him down with a look.
“Ok, but don’t tell her about the thing. There will be no discussion of such things.” Ryan wonders if by “thing” Seth means dick, but doesn’t delve into it. “Since when does Summer voluntarily have anything to do with Atomic County anyway?"
Ryan’s who he is, so he feels the guilt slither around in his belly.
“She’s bored?” That’s not a lie.
“Right.” Seth doesn’t buy it -- it's not that he thinks Ryan’s covering something up; Seth just doesn't believe that Summer doesn’t have a secondary agenda. Sometimes Seth is bright, when he tones down the stupid.
*
The party is pretty much exactly what Ryan expects. People in black and white and a touch of red here or there discussing novels that haven’t been published yet, just read on advanced copy, sipping or gulping wine, comparing agents and advances and other shit he really doesn’t give a damn about. The patio’s packed and the house even more so. He prefers to stay outside where he can at least breathe. He has his own little moment, though, while he stands at Seth’s elbow listening to him charm the hell out of a little clutch of pretentious Silverlakers in hundred dollar vintage t-shirts.
Seth’s smile lifts and twists as he explains his latest idea for Atomic County, and he's at ease, calm, slouching in his black and pink polo shirt and black chinos, and Ryan sees this is where Seth was born to be. He is these people. Even if Atomic County gets shelved, Seth will be back here making everyone laugh despite their too-cool-to-be-cool attitudes and back-stabbing wit.
“You lose Summer already?” Seth disengages from three women who’re sizing him up with shark eyes. He even seems to get that’s what’s happening. Seth’s grown up a lot; he just hides it well under his continuous crusade to fuck up.
They slide up to the bar-Seth’s drinking vodka gimlets two at a time-and Ryan scans the patio. Summer’s inside leaning against the sliding glass doors waving one hand in the air. He can imagine what she’s discussing. One of the writers from The Valley stumbled into conversation with her earlier, and the two have been discussing “subtext” for the last half hour.
“No, she’s trying to get some spoilers because she thinks season two sucked and wants to know if she should start watching Veronica Mars.” Ryan sips his jack and coke. One of the really good things about Zach is that he’s so straight-laced he’s always the DD. Ryan likes not having to be responsible for every single thing for once.
“I must be drunk, because I thought you just said ‘spoilers’.” Seth’s leaning against him, shoulder to shoulder, as they watch Summer inside. Zach’s somewhere discussing merchandizing.
“What if I said ‘slash’?” Ryan raises an eyebrow and meets Seth’s eye. Seth’s mouth falls open, and Ryan can practically see the white noise in his brain.
Reed pops up on cue, because Ryan’s life is a script, and the writer’s sparing him Seth’s babbled shock. “Ready?”
Seth and Ryan simultaneously put their glasses to their mouths and shot-gun them. Reed grabs Seth’s hand and Seth grips Ryan right over his wrist-cuff. They twist through the crowd, Ryan watching Seth’s black hair curling against the white of his neck, not listening to the stream of nonsense Seth burbles, wondering where Summer is.
If this was a fanfic, Summer would definitely offer to join in.
They end up in a bedroom that looks oddly goth, all red velvet bedding and red walls and people pressing around already. It’s been a while, yeah, but Ryan’s done this sort of thing before. Not with a guy, but he didn’t used to have any problem with public sex acts. He was fucking in public as of yesterday, so a little making out is hardly an issue. Except Seth’s bound to be nervous as hell, considering the two-fisted drinking, so Ryan walks into the room and plops on his back on the bed. When Seth leans down to say something over the roar of the squealing, yelling women, Ryan tugs him down.
Seth responds a little more rapidly than Ryan expects, falling right down on top of him and mauling him with an open mouth and groping hands. Ryan doesn’t know where he can put his hands and not freak Seth out; he moves them nervously on his back, trying to avoid his ass or the appealing curls of his hair. Seth pretty much eats Ryan’s face, and it isn’t the most erotic experience of Ryan’s life.
He thinks: Calm down, calm down, Seth, chill!
Out of the crowd of girls he hears Summer’s high-pitched screech. “Oh my god, Cohen, chill out!”
Seth thrusts against Ryan’s hip, and his lips slow, brushing Ryan’s with no tongue, and yeah, Ryan thrusts back. Seth scrabbles to yank his shirt off, and there is no crowd, no camera, just Seth’s ass under his hand, his cock rocking on Ryan’s hip and the tastes of lime and alcohol, and the way Seth’s tongue skips onto the tip of Ryan’s tongue, his mouth sucks Ryan’s tongue in and Seth’s teeth scrape it. Ryan finally gets his hand into Seth’s hair, twisting and holding his head, pulling his knee up to get a better angle to buck against Seth, the world a perfect focus on Seth’s serious skills with his mouth, something so shocking Ryan wants to have it all, get in on a piece of the more Seth has to offer.
Ryan’s ready for way less fabric, one second away from unbuckling Seth’s belt--
“TIME! TIME!” How often Reed repeats that before she’s pulling Seth up by his arm, Ryan has no clue. Doesn’t give a shit because Seth’s all dimples and laughter and over his shoulder Ryan meets Summer’s eyes. Her mouth’s a perfect circle, and his hips rise just a little by reflex.
Seth’s smile twists-is that a knowing smile from Seth?--and Ryan is one pull away from coming. “Summer’s behind me? I know she is.” Seth’s voice is low, and he’s definitely drunk because he licks his lips with the sort of promise Ryan doesn’t think Seth’s capable of being aware of.
“Summer’s behind this.” Ryan gives Seth that, watches Seth’s eyes drop closed and his fantasy life realign right there in front of Ryan’s face.
Reed’s saying something that he completely misses. People spill out of the room; Ryan catches the movement, but his focus is on Seth, all on Seth’s expression. Ryan holds his breath and waits to see if this is where everything falls apart, everything that hasn’t already.
The last person leaves turning the light out and clicking the door closed.
“Summer,” Seth says, his voice cracking.
“Seth, it was…” Ryan starts.
“Shut up, Chino.” The bed dips.
Seth shifts, his mouth against Ryan’s ear. “You’re not as slick as you think you are, Ryan.”
A hand way too small to be Seth’s unbuttons his jeans and grips him before he can respond.
“Wait--”
But he pushes up into Summer’s loose fingers, turns his head from one side to the other, doesn’t care who he kisses, just--
Seth grabs his hand and presses it to the front of his crisp, cotton pants, and pulls Ryan’s bottom lip into his mouth.
“Shit, this sucks, I can’t see anything!” Summer’s grip tightens just that much, and it’s over, Seth smiling into the kiss, Ryan’s mind hitting the soles of his feet, Summer stroking through it. His head falls back breaking the kiss, and over him he can hear the wet noise of Summer and Seth making out, feels both their bodies press against him, towards each other.
He drifts to sleep, the alcohol and drugs and sex smothering him.
*
I was thinking to myself about notes for this. Some of it’s so in-jokey that only one person at a time will even get some of this.
But, anyway:
1. Anna wanted someone to fall asleep during sex, because that shit happens! But never in fic. That was for her. A little gift.
2. The random bisexuality of every character in fanfic cracks me up. That’s my own joke to myself.
3. It had to be the emosex tape. There was no other way. What is more meta than that right now? It’s a cliché within a cliché wrapped in a crunchy eggroll wrapper.
4. The only thing I could think of to make this more self-referential was if I appeared in it speaking directly to the audience, like a Greek chorus, explaining why it was so beautiful that Josh handed us the fact that Reed lives in Silverlake, because that’s so meta meta fandom there’s a multifandom list named that, and was named that to begin with as an inside joke on writers and tv and the L.A. scene. < jay-z font>Oh, baby! But no one wants to see me get in a girl fight with Summer, right?
5. There could be one more of these, to complete the cycle, but I'm not sure yet.
.