excerpt from Surviving (Fic: The OC, R/M, part of 13/20)
Title: excerpt of Chapter 13, "Come Undone", from Surviving
Fandom(s): The OC
Pairing: Ryan/Marissa
Word Count: 1,220
Rating: T (sexual content; references to anatomy and such, but only in foreplay--nothing too explicit, IMO)
Warnings: None!
Disclaimer: I don't own them! I just borrow them.
Summary: After much deliberation, Ryan and Marissa decide to take the leap and have sex for the first time.
Notes: This is part of the latest chapter of my WIP, an AU wherein Ryan and Marissa are older (late twenties) and meet up by chance in upstate New York in a support group for the bereaved. In this universe, Marissa was sent off to San Diego after 1x08, thus her and Ryan never officially happened.
This is for the Written in the Stars challenge at
5_prompts (Prompt F14. This is only a preview of the truly romantic gifts coming) and for my claim at
lover100 (Table B, Prompt #11 - intimacy).
Marissa leads him by the hand to their room, pulling him inside once she’s extracted the room key from her clutch. Once they’re inside, she backs him into the door, cupping his cheeks in her hands and assailing his lips with frenzied kisses. There’s no space in between them, and she feels Ryan hard against her-and his hands gently seizing her arms and pulling her away, with an effort.
“You’re sure?” he murmurs, though she notes with pleasure that he’s breathing hard. “I don’t want you to rush-”
“It’s not rushing.” She hadn’t noticed until this moment how fast she’d been breathing. “Ryan, seeing Matthew and Annie down there, and Niles and Lucy… they’re happy. The others, the ones who don’t have someone… that used to be us.” She touches her hands to his chest, letting one of them rest over his heart. “But it isn’t anymore. I have you, I love you, I need you… I want you.” She presses closer once more, her breath warm against his lips and mingling with his. “I want us to have this. What Matthew and Annie have. I want that with you. This is a step towards that. The future. The future I want with you.”
He covers her mouth with his the second she stops. His hands grasp her hips, exploring the curves of her body, before he reaches up to start untying the laces at the back of her dress with hands shaking in a way they hadn’t this afternoon.
Her laces come free gradually, and he tugs lightly at the bodice of her dress, revealing her breasts in a black lace bra. He leans down to kiss them, and she softly groans, reaching behind her to grasp the bedpost and then fall to the bed. She’s only half-exposed and already she feels so naked. She’s bared all to be with him and somehow this latest nakedness doesn’t scare her anymore.
“This is only a preview,” she gasps out as Ryan teases her breasts free from the cups of her bra, without unhooking it-damn, he’s good. “And you are wearing way too many pieces of clothing right-oh, God…” Tongue, dammit. For someone who didn’t talk all that much, the man knew how to use his tongue.
“Maybe you should help me get them off,” Ryan says huskily as he finally frees her from the dress and lets it pool to the floor.
She’d wanted to mock him for his shaking hands, but she finds her own trembling as she helps him out of his suit jacket, which joins her dress on the floor, and undoes the buttons on his shirt. He catches her hands in his as they tremble and lightly brushes his lips against each knuckle, and after that they don’t shake again.
He finally unhooks her bra and pulls it off, and after she helps him out of his pants, they lay flush against each other as they kiss, skin against bare skin. When she gasps out that she’s ready, he helps her off with her panties and then his boxers, pulling his lips from hers only when necessary. “You’re sure?” he manages, breathing heavily, a repeat of earlier’s question.
“Very,” Marissa breathes.
Ryan’s hand reaches up; his thumb softly strokes her cheek. “Slowly,” he promises, before lowering his head to kiss her neck. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hey.” She places her hand at the back of his neck, guiding his face to hers and letting their foreheads touch. “You’re the only person I trust not to hurt me,” she whispers into his lips.
He kisses her again, in what she knows by now is a silent thank you, and goes to retrieve a condom from his bag-he’ll tell her later that he’d wanted to be prepared, in case.
Before they start, his hands traverse her body once more, a tender exploration that almost makes her cry. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers finally, and then she does cry, though she’s laughing. When they begin, they give themselves over to each other, and she closes her eyes and belongs to the feeling.
***
She’d never thought it would be possible to feel more secure in his arms than she already had, but following their lovemaking, she feels blessedly, beautifully safe. She breathes in knowing that when she does, she’ll hear him breathe out.
“Did you ever think this would happen, after Tijuana?” she murmurs. “That morning, when we woke up together… did you ever want it to happen again in the future?”
“I thought about it,” he tells her, after a minute. “Tijuana in general. All the time. You were… one of the only people besides Sandy who really cared, at first. After Tijuana, it didn’t really feel right with you gone. But at least… at least I knew you were alive, somewhere.”
She raises her head so she can watch him, an apology in her eyes. “How much did it scare you?” she asks, so quietly she can barely hear herself. “Finding me?”
It’s the first time since their reunion that she’s ever dared to ask him about Tijuana, and she slips her hand down to grasp one of his and squeeze, before resting her head on his chest again. He moves the arm that had rested under her body so that that hands plays with her hair.
“I thought that was the last time I’d ever get to hold you. That morning in bed, then that night in the alley… finding you was terrifying. But then I found you here, now, which… wasn’t any less terrifying.” He laughs just a little. “That hasn’t gone away just yet.”
“I know what you mean,” Marissa whispers. She’s been scared of so many things-of telling him about Isobel, of needing him too much, of him walking away, of intimacy. “But it’s been going away, slowly. What about you?”
“Some of it,” he admits. “But sometimes you scare the hell out of me. Nights like Valentine’s Day… sometimes I feel like I’m losing you. Not like I lost Jenna, but like you might… pull away.”
“I’m not always going to talk,” Marissa confesses. “Some days I feel like I can’t. Some days I worry about what it does to you. But… I could never pull away from you. You’re the only one who understands it. My dad… he knew what the grief was like, he loved Iz as much as I did, but he didn’t know what to do. You do.”
“Never thought I’d be helping someone. I wasn’t exactly helping myself.” He plays with the ends of her hair. “You helped me. You are helping me.”
She raises her head again, kissing his forehead quickly before shifting so her head comes to rest on her pillows. “I saw a waffle iron in the dining room,” she says impishly. “We could have breakfast tomorrow. I promise I won’t burn the hotel down.”
“You’d better not, Cooper; otherwise we’ll be paying this place even more.”
“Intimidate me; sure, that’ll get you somewhere.”
“I think we’ve gotten somewhere already.” As he shifts, he brushes his hand along her body in a soft caress, and she shivers.
“Yeah,” she whispers, with a smile on her face that still surprises her. “Yeah. I think we have.”