Paint The Silence
Title: Paint The Silence
Pairing: Trey/Seth, Seth/Ryan [The OC]
Rating: NC-17 (I guess)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of settings featured in this, I don't own the OC and I have no right to be writing about any of these characters. I make no profit from this.
Notes: I wrote this ages ago, and it's not that good, but I figured I'd post it anyway. This is set back when Trey was still living in the Cohen house, though that doesn't seem obvious, I just wanted to have it that way. This is also my feeble attempt at writing Seth POV, which turned out to be quite similar to my Pete Doherty stream-of-consciousness. OOC Trey, for the sake of entertainment. Also, the title was nicked from Paint The Silence by South, which was featured in the OC and used just because I couldn't think of anything better to call it. Anyway.
Paint The Silence
I want him. But he doesn't want me. Trey wants me, but I've got Summer, who also wants me- and who I have always wanted, or, at least, until he came along. Summer isn't him. Neither is Trey, but there's nothing quite like an Atwood but another Atwood… and then there's the way Trey looks at me sometimes…
Why doesn't anyone notice? He's always there and he's always looking and more than once his hand… his fucking nimble fingers like electricity, water trickling down the notches of my spine when there's no one behind us to see, no one who could tell Ryan.
I don't understand it. How can he do this to me?
I guess it's all right. There are ways things are supposed to be in Newport and this is almost one of them: Ryan and Marissa, me and Summer, and then there's always been Summer and Coop being friends with me all on my lonesome; then everything always changes when an Atwood swaggers in and saves me from being literally pulverised by a jock who doesn't know his arse from his elbow.
The difference, I have decided, is that Trey is the elder of the two, and therefore the more experienced- and he knows what he wants and he gets it. As I now know only too well. He's open about these things; wide open. Well, I mean, you would be to if you'd spend as long in prison as he had; what with all those times when you’re standing in the showers and you accidentally drop the soap… I guess -I hope- someday Ryan will have grown up too, gained more experience, and he'll forget about Cosmo Girl and realise that the Ironist had been fighting for him all along.
But he's not mine yet; he's never even looked at me like that. Maybe he won't ever realise, but maybe he will (Summer did after all), and that's what keeps me going. Well, that and the way Trey looks at me.
Trey likes to be in charge. On top of things, you might say. And I respect that -and wonder if it runs in the family- but I guess it doesn't matter because, you know, I'm enjoying what I'm getting; and I'm not exactly getting a family outing so I shouldn't be worried about it. I shouldn't even be considering it. Ryan shouldn't be maybe Trey should be.
And it's all right because, well, Ryan's my brother now, and Trey isn't, but if he was it would just be gross; not that I think he's disgusting or anything (in fact I think he's quite attractive, really…) it's just that'd be incest, and I may be prone to a certain inherent weirdness sometimes, but that doesn't quite extend to keeping it in the family… unless it's their family (and, God, imagine that: Atwood inbreeding). But Ryan probably thinks it'd be gross anyway, just because I'm a guy, and just because I want to carve 'SC 4 RA' into the bark of the big tree out back every sunny afternoon doesn’t mean he does too. Maybe if I was a little cooler, a little stronger, maybe with slightly (or drastically) different genitalia he might see fit to… to do stuff with/to me, and maybe that wouldn't be so gross after all.
Right now, it's just 'SC + TA' drawn in a ragged heart in my head. No one can know, not even Summer (especially not Summer; somehow I don't think she'd understand); this is just our little secret, and I kinda like that. Like being on a mission with the CIA or something. On a need to know basis. And Trey and I are the only ones who need to know.
"You are the worst fucking kind of cock tease, Seth," Trey says, swaggering into my room when I finally get a moment alone, "Because you don't even realise it."
There's a party downstairs; one of the swanky OC shindigs my parents are so fond of where there always seems to be more scandal and heartbreak than actually shindigging Whatever 'shindigging' is. He will be there, in his tux no doubt, either that or sneaking off somewhere with Marissa -now that they've gone and gotten back together (even though everyone knows they're only going to break up again no matter how much they're supposed to be made for each other)- but this time I'm not going to creep up to the gap in the curtains of the pool house and secretly watch them making out, because I've got Trey instead. Ryan's brother. Next of kin. Oh, God, now I'm the Marissa to Trey's Ryan.
Trey's wearing a suit, and he looks good in it, but it doesn’t melt onto his skin, it looks like his body actually repels it- because the idea of putting the second Kid Chino in a suit is just stupid. I doesn't seem right. "You've been leading me on all night," he continues, closing the door behind him on the din downstairs and turning to fan his fingers in front of me. "All you're little things," he wiggled his fingers. "The way you keep doing that this with your sleeve, where you tug it down and then roll it up again." I paused, and moved my fingers away from my wrist were I was about to roll up my sleeve, nervous that anyone could have paid that much attention. "Just watching you be Seth is enough for me," he says.
Trey moved in closer and closer. I was sitting on the bed and I felt kind of dumb as he loomed over me, his eyes, which looked almost sunken in their sockets, roaming over every self-conscious inch of me. He reached up and loosened his tie- having finally figured out how to tie it properly, as if it wasn't part of the natural scheme of things -and smoothed his fingers through his hair.
"I like the way you talk," he continued, though I hadn’t said a word. "I like the way your lips move to form the words and your hands try to be confident when you're trying to convince someone to do something, gesticulating like they'll think you know what you doing. I like it when you're silent because then I know that you're thinking about me. I like the way your eyes dart around, like you think no one notices you're looking at Ryan. Maybe no one cares enough to notice…" He was undoing the clasp on his belt, now, without removing any other clothing.
"But I notice. And I wish you could look at me that way, but you never do. But your silences…" he opened his fly, "I love your silences because that's the only time I know I can really invade you." He pushed his black slacks down and they slipped off his thighs to pool around his ankles. His underwear went with them. "Come here," he said, and I stared at him. "I've got a better use for your pretty mouth than talking about Bright Eyes."
"So you're a Journey fan too, huh?" I commented, sinking to my knees; hands on his pale thighs, his un-tucked shirt tickling my forehead, pubic hair tickling my nose, my lips wrapped firmly around his cock. His fingers tightened in my hair.
I'm not sure whether I should be thinking about Ryan or not; or whether I will ever stop thinking about Ryan. Summer isn't Ryan. Trey isn't Ryan. Anna, Alex:- they weren't Ryan either (though Alex came remarkably close, what with fancying Marissa and all). Nothing could ever come close to Ryan; nobody treats me the same way as he does. I want him. Now I've just got to wait it out until he wants me.
END
Pairing: Trey/Seth, Seth/Ryan [The OC]
Rating: NC-17 (I guess)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of settings featured in this, I don't own the OC and I have no right to be writing about any of these characters. I make no profit from this.
Notes: I wrote this ages ago, and it's not that good, but I figured I'd post it anyway. This is set back when Trey was still living in the Cohen house, though that doesn't seem obvious, I just wanted to have it that way. This is also my feeble attempt at writing Seth POV, which turned out to be quite similar to my Pete Doherty stream-of-consciousness. OOC Trey, for the sake of entertainment. Also, the title was nicked from Paint The Silence by South, which was featured in the OC and used just because I couldn't think of anything better to call it. Anyway.
Paint The Silence
I want him. But he doesn't want me. Trey wants me, but I've got Summer, who also wants me- and who I have always wanted, or, at least, until he came along. Summer isn't him. Neither is Trey, but there's nothing quite like an Atwood but another Atwood… and then there's the way Trey looks at me sometimes…
Why doesn't anyone notice? He's always there and he's always looking and more than once his hand… his fucking nimble fingers like electricity, water trickling down the notches of my spine when there's no one behind us to see, no one who could tell Ryan.
I don't understand it. How can he do this to me?
I guess it's all right. There are ways things are supposed to be in Newport and this is almost one of them: Ryan and Marissa, me and Summer, and then there's always been Summer and Coop being friends with me all on my lonesome; then everything always changes when an Atwood swaggers in and saves me from being literally pulverised by a jock who doesn't know his arse from his elbow.
The difference, I have decided, is that Trey is the elder of the two, and therefore the more experienced- and he knows what he wants and he gets it. As I now know only too well. He's open about these things; wide open. Well, I mean, you would be to if you'd spend as long in prison as he had; what with all those times when you’re standing in the showers and you accidentally drop the soap… I guess -I hope- someday Ryan will have grown up too, gained more experience, and he'll forget about Cosmo Girl and realise that the Ironist had been fighting for him all along.
But he's not mine yet; he's never even looked at me like that. Maybe he won't ever realise, but maybe he will (Summer did after all), and that's what keeps me going. Well, that and the way Trey looks at me.
Trey likes to be in charge. On top of things, you might say. And I respect that -and wonder if it runs in the family- but I guess it doesn't matter because, you know, I'm enjoying what I'm getting; and I'm not exactly getting a family outing so I shouldn't be worried about it. I shouldn't even be considering it. Ryan shouldn't be maybe Trey should be.
And it's all right because, well, Ryan's my brother now, and Trey isn't, but if he was it would just be gross; not that I think he's disgusting or anything (in fact I think he's quite attractive, really…) it's just that'd be incest, and I may be prone to a certain inherent weirdness sometimes, but that doesn't quite extend to keeping it in the family… unless it's their family (and, God, imagine that: Atwood inbreeding). But Ryan probably thinks it'd be gross anyway, just because I'm a guy, and just because I want to carve 'SC 4 RA' into the bark of the big tree out back every sunny afternoon doesn’t mean he does too. Maybe if I was a little cooler, a little stronger, maybe with slightly (or drastically) different genitalia he might see fit to… to do stuff with/to me, and maybe that wouldn't be so gross after all.
Right now, it's just 'SC + TA' drawn in a ragged heart in my head. No one can know, not even Summer (especially not Summer; somehow I don't think she'd understand); this is just our little secret, and I kinda like that. Like being on a mission with the CIA or something. On a need to know basis. And Trey and I are the only ones who need to know.
"You are the worst fucking kind of cock tease, Seth," Trey says, swaggering into my room when I finally get a moment alone, "Because you don't even realise it."
There's a party downstairs; one of the swanky OC shindigs my parents are so fond of where there always seems to be more scandal and heartbreak than actually shindigging Whatever 'shindigging' is. He will be there, in his tux no doubt, either that or sneaking off somewhere with Marissa -now that they've gone and gotten back together (even though everyone knows they're only going to break up again no matter how much they're supposed to be made for each other)- but this time I'm not going to creep up to the gap in the curtains of the pool house and secretly watch them making out, because I've got Trey instead. Ryan's brother. Next of kin. Oh, God, now I'm the Marissa to Trey's Ryan.
Trey's wearing a suit, and he looks good in it, but it doesn’t melt onto his skin, it looks like his body actually repels it- because the idea of putting the second Kid Chino in a suit is just stupid. I doesn't seem right. "You've been leading me on all night," he continues, closing the door behind him on the din downstairs and turning to fan his fingers in front of me. "All you're little things," he wiggled his fingers. "The way you keep doing that this with your sleeve, where you tug it down and then roll it up again." I paused, and moved my fingers away from my wrist were I was about to roll up my sleeve, nervous that anyone could have paid that much attention. "Just watching you be Seth is enough for me," he says.
Trey moved in closer and closer. I was sitting on the bed and I felt kind of dumb as he loomed over me, his eyes, which looked almost sunken in their sockets, roaming over every self-conscious inch of me. He reached up and loosened his tie- having finally figured out how to tie it properly, as if it wasn't part of the natural scheme of things -and smoothed his fingers through his hair.
"I like the way you talk," he continued, though I hadn’t said a word. "I like the way your lips move to form the words and your hands try to be confident when you're trying to convince someone to do something, gesticulating like they'll think you know what you doing. I like it when you're silent because then I know that you're thinking about me. I like the way your eyes dart around, like you think no one notices you're looking at Ryan. Maybe no one cares enough to notice…" He was undoing the clasp on his belt, now, without removing any other clothing.
"But I notice. And I wish you could look at me that way, but you never do. But your silences…" he opened his fly, "I love your silences because that's the only time I know I can really invade you." He pushed his black slacks down and they slipped off his thighs to pool around his ankles. His underwear went with them. "Come here," he said, and I stared at him. "I've got a better use for your pretty mouth than talking about Bright Eyes."
"So you're a Journey fan too, huh?" I commented, sinking to my knees; hands on his pale thighs, his un-tucked shirt tickling my forehead, pubic hair tickling my nose, my lips wrapped firmly around his cock. His fingers tightened in my hair.
I'm not sure whether I should be thinking about Ryan or not; or whether I will ever stop thinking about Ryan. Summer isn't Ryan. Trey isn't Ryan. Anna, Alex:- they weren't Ryan either (though Alex came remarkably close, what with fancying Marissa and all). Nothing could ever come close to Ryan; nobody treats me the same way as he does. I want him. Now I've just got to wait it out until he wants me.
END