(no subject)

[anisapologist]

LOVING RYAN
By: Anisapologist
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Ryan Phillippe/Hayden Christensen
Summary: Ryan and Hayden meet at a photo shoot and things progress from there…
Disclaimer: This is not true, but I wish it was-and I blame everyone at ‘LEAVING FAME’ for writing such hot, wonderful things about Hayden and Ryan and inspiring this story as a result!!


The photo shoot was not one you had been looking forward too. It was for the cover of Vanity Fair, and the title was “Young Hollywood Heartthrobs”. You were doing the shoot alone and they would join up all the photos later digitally-at least that is what you thought, until you arrived at the shoot to see Ryan Phillippe crouching in a corner, smoking a cigarette, and looking pissed.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” you ask, turning to your publicist, who gives you a shy smile, and tells you that Ryan has been ill, and needs to do the shoot with you because time is running out, and would you really mind so much if he does some shots with you?

You give her a look that tells her you do fucking mind, but then you smile politely for the photographer and makeup people, “No problem,” you manage, through gritted teeth and head into the makeup room.

“Hello,” Ryan says curtly, holding out his hand and shaking yours lightly, “Jesus…could you put any more makeup on?”

You smile and duck your head, embarrassed because you do have on more makeup then some of the women on the set, “It’s the look Mario wants,” you say.

Ryan rolls his eyes and lights a cigarette, “Well, he can kiss my ass if he thinks I’m putting on lipstick!”

The shoot goes well-better than expected considering the fact that think Ryan hates your guts for stealing the role of Anakin out from under him.

You break for lunch and Ryan finds you eating tofu in your dressing room.

“Ugh! You eat that shit? My wife eats that-it makes me sick!” he crinkles his nose up at your food.

“I like it,” you shrug.

“Look, some of the shots they did on the digital are up in the screening room-do you want to come and see them? They look good.”

You shake your head, “No, thanks-I hate looking at myself….”

“Why? You really are magnificent,” Ryan breathes, his voice sounding strange…almost lustful.

“Don’t,” you mutter, feeling insecure and stupid, not sure if Ryan is making fun of you.

“I’m not allowed to compliment you now?” Ryan challenges, stepping into your personal space and making you very uncomfortable indeed, “You’re perfect, you know that? So fucking perfect…”

He reaches down and pushes a curl behind your right ear softly, letting the backs of his fingers brush your now flushed cheek as he lowers his hand again, staring into your eyes hypnotically.

“No, I’m not….I hate the way I look….look like a girl!” you reply, your voice full of self-loathing, and Ryan looks surprised.

“How can you hate the way you look? Half the girls on the planet want to bed you…”

You scowl at the thought and shrug your shoulders, “Don’t like girls,” you admit bitingly, and Ryan gives you a sly smile.

“That makes two of us,” he says to your shock.

“What? Aren’t you married? With two kids?”

Ryan waves you off, rolling his eyes, “It’s a long and complicated soap opera…but I’m soon to be divorced.” He says matter-of-factly, “And once I am a free man again, I plan to be honest about my sexuality…no more hiding in the closet.”

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, tormented, certain that Ryan is just playing with you, “You don’t even like me…is this a game to you?”

Ryan smiles slightly and brings his hand to rest on your navel, just above the band of your cargos, gently brushing the light hair there, and causing you to shudder involuntarily, and close your eyes at the caress. You wonder if he can tell how badly you want to kiss him-and if he notices how hard you are, “No…it’s not a game, not at all…”

Slipping his hand inside the loose cargos, his hand finds your erection deftly, and just strokes the tip of your cock, ghosting his fingertips against it, causing you to gasp at the sensation and thrust your hips forward, seeking more contact.

Your lips are centimetres apart and at last you find the courage to lean forward and brush your lips to his, softly, just testing…seeking permission.

Ryan grants permission instantly and you are kissing now….tongues slowly and languidly exploring each other’s mouths, a soft whimper escaping you into Ryan’s mouth. He smiles at the sound and kisses you harder, nipping at your bottom lip, and working his mouth down the side of your neck, as you tip your head back, gasping loudly now, giving yourself over to the feelings…to the need.

Ryan sucks at your neck, licking it, biting it….your hands come up to his hair and grab at it desperately, guiding him slightly along your neck, but letting him do all the work, hearing yourself groaning and feeling yourself arch helplessly into his hand as it closes now around your erection and begins to stroke you slowly inside your pants.

You come quickly, totally overstimulated, and needing release badly. You stumble forward a few steps with the intensity of your orgasm, and nearly knock Ryan down in the process. He stops kissing you and laughs lightly, steadying himself and you, and slowly withdrawing his hand from your pants, licking his fingers now covered in your essence seductively, while staring at you the entire time.

You are embarrassed because you came like a teenager, and you just want to pull away and get away from Ryan, but when you try to leave, he grabs you and holds you there, against the wall of the dressing room. You are surprised by his strength-he isn’t rough, but he isn’t going to let you escape either.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice husky.

He kisses you deeply again, nearly taking your breath away with the tenderness of it, “You know, you don’t have to be embarrassed…it’s okay,” he strokes your face gently, and his eyes are soft.

You want to tell him to get fucked because you are humiliated, but he seems sincere and you like him touching you, so you manage a small smile and decide to be honest, “It’s been…a long time…”

He nods slowly, “I understand…. it’s been a while for me too-at least with a guy. Do you…want to get dinner tonight or something?”

You want to say no and just flee, but you are hungry and you need to eat, “Yeah, sure,” you say, trying to sound casual-like you don’t think it’s a date, even though you hope to God that it is, “Where?”

You arrive at an Italian restaurant a few hours later.

“You drink a lot,” Ryan says, sounding mildly concerned, watching as you down your third vodka in an hour.

You scowl and stare down at your empty glass, “I know,” you mutter, feeling drunk and tired and not sure that this whole dinner thing was such a good idea after all.

“Why?” Ryan asks and you don’t have to look up to know that he is fixing you with one of his intense stares-you can feel it, like a laser seeing through you, “Why do you drink so much?”

You laugh humourlessly and motion the waitress, indicating another round, “Why do you ask so many questions?”

“Just trying to make conversation,” Ryan replies coolly, annoyed by your evasiveness.

“I drink because I like being drunk. I like feeling numb. I like not…feeling like me, okay?”

Ryan considers what you have just said for a moment, biting his lip and looking sad, “Who do you want to feel like?” he asks after a moment of silence.

“Someone else…I don’t know…anyone! Someone who likes themselves…someone who doesn’t…hate themselves…”

And now you know you must be drunk, because if you were sober, you would never, ever say anything like this to anyone-least of all Ryan Fucking Philippe!

“Why do you hate yourself, Hayden?” he pushes, looking truly concerned for you now.

You down the fourth drink before the waitress even has a chance to put it down on the table, “Another!” you demand, and she gives you a look, before nodding and rushing away to get you another vodka sour.

Ryan just watches you with a distant look in his eyes, as if he’s watching a movie play out in front of him-a tragic one.

“Because….I don’t know-maybe because I’m a fag, and my father hates me…maybe because all I’ve ever been good at is acting-and I’m not even good at that! Maybe because I fucking HATE posing for pictures and playing the model! Maybe because my brother is so fucking perfect and successful at everything he fucking touches and does-and I’ll always be fucking second to him, no matter what….I don’t know-take your pick! Maybe I just hate myself for ever taking the role of Anakin…and causing people like you to hate me in the process…”

Ryan picks at his food for a moment before he speaks again, “You shouldn’t hate yourself, Hayden-I don’t hate you, that’s for sure.”

You look up and laugh, “yes, you do-you wanted Star Wars so fucking bad!”

Ryan looks at you, “True enough. But I don’t hate you for getting it-you did a better audition then me, plain and simple-you deserved the role.”

You are stunned at Ryan’s candour and his maturity, hardly expecting it from him. You stare with your mouth open dumbly, not sure how to react.

“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies,” Ryan smirks at you, so you do.

The rest of dinner is spent talking about Ryan’s divorce, and his children. You find that you actually quite like him. He’s adorable when he talks about his children, and it’s obvious to you that he adores them.

“It must be wonderful to be a father,” you say, wistfully.

Ryan smiles, “it has its moments…”

“Can you…can you ever imagine…your children doing something that would make you…hate them?” you ask sadly, staring into space and thinking about your own father.

“No,” Ryan replies instantly, then reaches out to clasp your hand under the table lightly, “Your dad will get over it, Hayden-give it time.”

You smile and down another vodka, “You don’t know my father,” you say warily, “Wanna go dancing?”

Ryan smiles at you wickedly and motions for the bill, “Since you stole my role as Anakin-you can pay for dinner, Vader!” he smiles, handing you the bill.

The gay club is crowded when you arrive, and you start to dance, but have to stop almost immediately, afraid you are going to get sick. You stumble to the bar and order a beer; drinking it and leaning against the bar stool, watching Ryan dance, and trying not to think about how hot he looks-all muscles and tan and piercing eyes….

The music is so loud and non-stop and makes your head throb. Ryan seems to be having fun, but you feel like you might throw up. After a while, Ryan dances over to you, taking the beer out of your hand and leading you on to the dance floor, “Dance with me, baby,” he says against your ear, running a hand over your ass suggestively.

You press against him as he moves against you, reaching out to grasp at his hips, running a hand up under his shirt and feeling the rippling muscles there, moaning gently against his ear as you dance, “You feel nice….” you whimper against his hair, and you think that you may have heard him whimper in reply, but you are not sure.

The song is fast and the beat is hypnotic, but the two of you are slow dancing up against a wall, grinding against one another, not caring who sees.

“How do you see this night ending, Ryan?” you ask staring down at him, enjoying the look of tortured pleasure on his face as you rub against him sensuously.

“With you in my bed…” he replies, smirking.

“Maybe I don’t want to fuck you in a bed…maybe I want you here…now…”

Ryan groans loudly, and thrusts against you, “Then take me to the bathroom and fuck me,” he offers.

You smile at him and drag him towards the toilets.

It gets pretty rough for a while-both of you trying to prove some kind of point, pushing and shoving one another all over the stall, slamming into the walls, pausing to kiss passionately, before shoving and slamming again.

Ryan slams you hard against the door of the stall, and you just know you are going to have bruises there in the morning. You smile a feral grin and shove him as hard as you can, knocking him back against the toilet. He staggers and nearly falls over.

“You like it rough, huh?” you ask, growling against his ear. He looks at you for a long moment before pushing hard against you and slamming you against the door again, your head slamming against it before his mouth is assaulting yours, tongue claiming you, all heat and need. H forces your arms up over your head, grinding against you hard.

At last, he breaks the kiss, breathing hard, “You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers against your lips, “God, I want you…”

He kisses you again, capturing your lips and biting them roughly as you cry out, then softening into a slow, erotic kiss.

You notice how the kiss has now become tender and searching, and give yourself over to it, enjoying the change in Ryan’s demeanour. Breaking the kiss, he pulls back slightly and just looks at you with a smoky expression. You smile slightly and slide down the door to your knees, unzipping his jeans and taking out his already hard cock, stroking it in your hand a few times before slowly bringing your mouth to the tip.

Ryan watches you distantly, licking his lips and then groaning and throwing his head back, crying out to the ceiling when you take him all the way to the root. Then he cradles your head in his hands, threading fingers through your curls, as you suck him slowly, gently, pausing to lick and kiss the head before taking him in again.

“Stop…” Ryan says all at once, pulling your head back and off his cock roughly, “No…”

“What?” you look at him with confusion, “You don’t want this?”

Ryan looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust and conflict, “Not here…not like this…” he manages to reply.

“Why not?” you whine like a ten year old.

“Not when you’re…like this…”

You laugh bitterly and sit back on your heels looking up at him as he pulls up his jeans and buttons them back up, “Like what? Are you fucking joking? It’s just a fuck, Phillippe! It doesn’t mean anything! What do you care if I’m drunk? Like I’m ever going to see you again…”

Ryan gives you a nasty snarl and tries to push past you, but you block him, “I should have known! Should have known better than to think you might actually be a human being, Christensen-let me out of here. I want to go dance!”

“Fine!” you scream in his face and let him out of the stall, screaming after him, “Maybe I’ll just go pick up someone else then!”

“Do whatever you want, Hayden-whore yourself out-see if I give a fuck!” Ryan shouts back, over the music.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you!” you seethe, feeling sick, “Don’t you fucking walk away from me!”

Ryan gives you a hurt look, and says nothing, just shakes his head and leaves you alone in the stall.

You spend the next half-hour in there, throwing up.

You look up at him, embarrassed that you have been sick, and surprised that he has come back for you, “What do you want?”

“I thought I better come and get you before you passed out in here and got taken advantage of, Vader,” he says calmly.

“I don’t need your help,” you mumble drunkenly, attempting to get up and falling back on your ass. Ryan laughs out loud at you, “Fuck you!” you scowl.

“Time to take you home, dark lord,” he smirks at you sarcastically, hoisting you up and carrying you out of the bathroom and club and depositing you in the passenger seat of his Escalade.

“This isn’t my car!” you shriek.

“Very observant of you, Vader,” Ryan says, getting in and starting the car, “There’s no chance in hell that I am letting you drive yourself home. You can stay at my place.”
“No…drop me off at my place!” you whine, “I wanna go home!”

“God, you have the most annoying fucking whiney voice, you know that?” Ryan shouts at you, “Shut up! I am NOT driving all the way to the valley-sleep at my place tonight-and I’ll bring you to get your car in the morning.”

“Tove is going to worry about me….” You say in a childish voice.

Ryan smirks and laughs, “Tove will probably be happy as hell to have you out of his hair for a whole night. I’m sure he gets mighty tired of wiping your ass for you!”

“Fuck off,” you mumble, feeling sick again.

“You are truly amazing and mature, Hayden, “ Ryan replies sarcastically.

The rest of the ride is silent and cold.

“You can sleep in here…the sheets are clean, I think…and the bathroom is across the hall…” Ryan says searching with his hand in the darkness for the light switch, unable to find it.

You reach for him in the darkness of the room, and fumble with the buttons on his shirt, leaning forward to try to kiss him, “Fuck me?”

Ryan pulls back slightly, stilling your hands with his own gently, “No,” he whispers, looking sad, “You’re wasted, baby…I can’t let you…do this…”

But you want to do this-you’re a whore, a slut…it’s the one thing you know you are good at-getting men off.

“I can make it good for you, Ryan,” you mumble drunkenly, reaching for him again, “I can get you off, baby…”

You fall on your back on the bed, bringing Ryan with you. He falls atop you.

“You’re drunk, Hayden-stop.”

When you don’t stop, his eyes flare with anger briefly and he takes your hands and pins them to the bed on either side of you forcefully, “Stop!”

So you do.

“Sleep it off, baby…. I’m going to my room down the hall to the left-if you need me.”

You pass out before he is even out of the room.

Ryan looks up at you casually from his morning newspaper, “Hey…there’s coffee and juice in the kitchen. And I got out some Tylenol for you too.”

“Thanks,”

“I have no fucking memory of anything after we left that club….did we…?”

Ryan raises an eyebrow at you, smirking, “No,” he says folding the paper up and giving you his full attention now, “We didn’t,”

You stare at your orange juice, “I’m sorry…about last night. About the way I acted….the things I said…”

“Do you mean the part about hating yourself or the part about hating me?”

“Both,”

“It’s okay, Hayden. I understand.”

“I’m fucked up,” you announce, feeling emotional, “I know that. I just….I’m sorry I ruined your evening. I’ll leave as soon as I finish this.”

Ryan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you as you drink your coffee, but grabs your hand when you finish and get up to leave, “Don’t go. Stay? Please stay….

“Why would you want me to stay?” you ask, truly bewildered that Ryan even wants to look at you after how you have acted.

Ryan blushes slightly and shrugs, “I don’t know….stay?”

He takes you to his bedroom then, without another word being spoken. He stares at you as he undresses you at the foot of the bed, pausing now and then to caress each bit of newly exposed skin as you shiver with want.

“Lay back,” he whispers, and you lay down on the bed and watch as he undresses.

Ryan crawls up the bed, and lies beside you, caressing your navel gently.

You bite your lip and try to concentrate on not arching up into his touch. His fingers feel so light, so soft against your sensitised skin. You whimper and turn your head to the side, unable to look at him, not wanting him to see the need in your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says wistfully, and that is all it takes.

With a mournful sound, you begin to tremble and cry, terrified and turned on all at once-wanting to run away and yet wanting to stay and let him have you…not knowing what you want-more? Less? Nothing?

“Oh, Ryan…” you moan between sobs.

He stares at you like a scientist doing an experiment, like he’s trying to figure something out-trying to figure you out.

“What happened to you?” he asks at last, not sure he really wants to know.

You look at him in surprise, tears streaming down your face, “What? I just…I don’t know…I can’t…do this. You’re married and I…I’m so fucked up….”

His hands come to rest on your chest and he leans closer to you, “God, what did he do to you?” he sounds horrified-because you are acting so horrible…because you are so horrible.

You stare at the ceiling and try to stop trembling, “Who?” you ask, knowing exactly what he means, but trying to play dumb.

“The one who made you this way-the one who taught you to hate yourself so much…was it all your dad-or was there…someone else?”

You swallow thickly; hating that Ryan can see through you so clearly and seems to know all your secrets already. This is exactly why you don’t get into relationships or have sex…so people won’t see you like this, won’t know….

“I can’t…be here. I have to go…” you try to get up, but Ryan holds you down by the shoulders, which terrifies and enrages you, “Get off of me! Fuck! What is it with men? Are you gonna hit me now too?” You stop quickly, realising you have said too much.

“Not all men hit, Hayden…” Ryan says sadly, and lets you get up, watching you dress in silence, sitting in the middle of the bed, just watching you, “Why won’t you let me in? Why won’t you let me help you?”

You stop and stare at him in disbelief, “Why do you even care? You don’t know me! And…you can’t help me. No one can. Just…leave me alone…okay?”

You leave the room, pulling out your cell and calling a cab. You wait for it outside, and Ryan doesn’t come after you, though you want him too....

TBC…..