love isn't a cliche when it's done right.
Title: From Here to Eternity (part 3 of 4)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Wherein everyone needs a hug. Especially Ryan.
Disclaimer: Alas, I own them not. In fact, Fox kind of owns *me* right now.
Previously, on The O.C.
Episodes: Pilot - The Outsider. Ryan kisses Seth in the kitchen. Seth kisses Ryan on the beach. Mrs. Peacock with the rope in the Conservatory. Seth tries new things. Ryan has issues with Seth’s forwardness. Seth has angst. Ryan eats, plays video games, and has denial issues. Seth has babbling issues, and asks Marissa to hook him up with Summer.
From Here to Eternity part 3: To Love and to be Loved
Marissa’s hand had been poised casually on her hip, but after Seth spoke, it moved quickly to her mouth, as if to cover a smile. She recovered promptly, brushing a strand of impeccably highlighted hair behind her ear.
“You want me to hook you up with Summer?” she echoed, incredulity creeping into her voice
“What?” Seth asked, extending his hands towards her, palms up. “Is that such an out there question?”
Marissa laughed, although not maliciously. “I think she’s still mad that you never invited her to your grandpa’s party. She said something about missing out on banker brokers?”
“Well, you know, she’s in luck ‘cause I’m the next best thing to a banker broker.”
“Somehow I don’t think she’ll believe that.”
“Please, Marissa, you’ve got to help me on this one. I scratch your back, you scratch mine? We share in the scratching duties?” Seth’s voice wasn’t as much desperate as it was pleading. The difference was small, but distinct, like that between a brand name cereal versus the generic store label. Desperation would have meant that this was something he really *wanted*, instead of something he just felt he *needed*.
Marissa raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see why I have to scratch your back, Cohen. As I recall, the whole Ryan thing fell flat.”
“Cause you chose Luke.”
“No.” Marissa cast her eyes at the ground before reconnecting with Seth’s. “Because Ryan chose you.”
Seth blinked rapidly and attempted to laugh, but it came out stilted. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” At that moment, Seth would have given his iPod, his pinky finger, *and* his Tarantino-signed collector’s edition of True Romance to be a better liar.
“Look, I’m not…” she paused, her body relaxing slightly. “Do you want to come in?”
“Yeah, because a way to make this conversation even more awkward is to have your mom walk in on it.” Seth mumbled to the front stoop.
“She’s not home.” Marissa said softly.
“It’s alright. In fact I’ll…” He motioned back to his own house and took a step back.
Marissa stopped him by stepping outside and closing the door. She sat down on the stoop, smoothing her pastel skirt over the tops of her thighs with both hands. Seth followed, and they sat beside each other, each staring blankly into the street in the distance.
Seth scratched at his palm, then picked at a miniscule hole in his jeans before taking a quick glance at Marissa. One of her hands was crossed over her body, massaging a shoulder distractedly.
“Um.” Seth began. “So, uh, when did you, uh, know?”
“When? I don’t know.”
“Because I didn’t…”
“I know.” Marissa turned towards Seth.
“I didn’t try to take him from you.” Seth finished his cut-off sentence apologetically.
“I know.” Marissa repeated. “After Luke got shot…something just…changed? I guess maybe I always knew. He never looked at me quite the same way he looked at you.” Her voice was weary, and under her makeup there were signs of circles under her blue eyes.
“Luke?” Seth attempted to joke. “Well, they always say you beat up the one you care about, but I thought that we were past middle school crush techniques.”
Marissa gave Seth a Look that might have been a smile, but her eyes showed otherwise.
“Well, as far as Ryan goes, you and I are both kind of in the same boat now.” Seth conceded. “So, you know, I thought I’d give the whole Summer thing another shot. My dad thinks she’s hot, you know.”
“I’ll tell her that.” Marissa said with a faint trace of amusement. “She’s had a thing for dads in the past.”
Seth let out a short burst of laughter before his face fell into a stoic gaze again.
“We’re both kind of screwed, huh?” Marissa said to the air.
“Yeah,” Seth agreed with a sigh. “Definitely screwed.”
* * *
Instead of returning to his empty house, Seth wandered the streets of his neighborhood aimlessly. He scuffed the toes of his red Sauconys as his feet dragged over the cracked asphalt. Occasionally he would pick up an errant rock or a stick and chuck it at a street sign, letting out a silent, fist pumping cheer when one of the projectiles connected with a resounding clank.
For some unknown reason, his conversation with Marissa made Seth feel better. Not the-hills-are-alive better, but better nonetheless. Someone knew about his relationship with Ryan, and the world hadn’t imploded. It hadn’t even gotten crumbly around the edges.
But he still was at a loss as to how to make Ryan see that.
It seemed like Ryan was used to world crumbliness. His world was like a bad cookie that way. Seth supposed that he had a right to his distrust. In the past month, he’d been arrested, thrown out, taken in, essentially thrown out again, beat up repeatedly, abandoned and dismissed as a criminal by most of Newport’s finest. If anyone was entitled to issues, it was Ryan.
Still, Seth didn’t see why Ryan had to have issues with *him*. Or Marissa, for that matter.
He kicked at the curb before pivoting 180 degrees and striding purposefully back where he’d come from.
Ryan might act like he was afraid of sex, but Seth was damn sure that the Beatles were right on this one. The one thing he needed was love.
* * *
Seth barged into the poolhouse without knocking. A startled Ryan looked up from where he was sitting on the bed reading one of Seth’s comics and immediately straightened. He looked very young in his wrinkled grey sweats and v-neck undershirt, and Seth was immediately struck at how vulnerable Ryan seemed. Vulnerable was an adjective that didn’t often come to mind when thinking about Ryan. Hot? Edible? Rawr? Yes, yes, and double yes. But not vulnerable. Until now.
Seth stopped abruptly and stood just a few paces inside the door, as if he wanted to have a quick and easy escape route if things soured. His fingers tapped a pattern on his denim covered thigh until he stopped them by balling his hand into a fist.
The silence wasn’t just uncomfortable. It was suicidally painful. If there had been an oven nearby, Seth would have gone all Sylvia Plath. It was the second time he’d prayed for an easy death in less than a day. If he lived through this only to start writing confessional poetry about his vagina, he had no one to blame but Ryan.
Seth broke the silence with a burst of words. “Okay, you can’t do this anymore, dude. You push me away, you push Marissa away, and in case you hadn’t noticed, neither one of us is much the better for it.”
Ryan’s head tilted, and Seth thought he saw a glimmer of emotion within his eyes. He took a few steps more into the room, until he was inches away from the bed. In response, Ryan turned his head quickly to the side and stared at the filmy beige windowcoverings.
“Hey.” Seth tried again. “Stop being Egypt!”
This made Ryan’s head snap back attentively. “Egypt?” he asked incredulously, but this time, his eyes didn’t leave Seth.
Seth took this as encouragement and lowered his body onto the bed, although still further from Ryan than he would have liked. He didn’t answer the question.
“You know what Ryan?” Seth began. “At first I thought you were right, that maybe if I could find some way to prove to you that I’m not just some confused kid who doesn’t know what he wants, that you would stop questioning things and take me back. But then I realized that isn’t what this is all about.” He inhaled deeply and took a handful of Ryan’s sheets. “You’ve got to stop thinking that every little thing you do will get you taken away from here. Because I’m not gonna let that happen, and my mom and dad aren’t going to let that happen.”
“Even if I’m screwing their son?” Ryan interrupted bitterly.
“Even then. Incest issues aside, you’re a part of our family.”
Ryan’s body slumped further on the pillows.
Seth continued. “I need you. Marissa needs you. Hell, even my mom and dad probably need you, although for what besides carrying heavy things I’m not sure at the moment, but that doesn’t matter, what matters is that everyone here needs you, and that’s not going to change no matter who you’re sleeping with. Or not sleeping with, as the case may be.”
“Marissa doesn’t need me. She has Luke.”
Seth suppressed a snort. “Yes she does, she looks like shit, dude. Pretty much how I’m going to look if you keep doing this to me.”
Ryan’s eyes searched Seth questioningly. Seth sighed in response and scratched at his cheek with his free hand.
“Look, she knows about…” Seth trailed off and looked at Ryan. “Not that I told her.” He assured quickly in response to Ryan’s panicked gaze. “Just, be her friend, okay? Because I don’t think she has many good ones at the moment.” He bit the inside of his lip, hard. “And I need you to be my friend too, because I’ve got even less of those than Marissa.”
“I’m your friend, Seth. And Marissa’s too.” Ryan said in a deep voice.
“No, you’re not!” Seth burst, unwrapping the sheet from around his hand. “If you were my friend, you wouldn’t kiss me and run away without an explanation! You wouldn’t keep running away from people who care about you. News flash, Ry, this isn’t Chino. This isn’t even Newport a month ago. No one’s letting you leave here without going medieval on you. I’m not letting you leave me alone with the pod people.” Seth took a deep breath. “Even if that means we’re just going to have to be friends. Without privileges. Because it’s you I need, Ry, not anything else.”
Seth could feel his heart fluttering behind his striped polo as he finished speaking and looked at Ryan expectantly. Ryan’s expression was blank, but his cheeks were mottled pink and his nostrils flared slightly.
Seth leaned closer, placing his hand perilously near one of Ryan’s sock-clad feet. “So what do you say?”
--end of part 3--
for Z., who is a lot like Seth, and for Shima, who swears he never reads porn.
ETA: Next time, on The O.C.
Stay tuned for the inevitable porny conclusion!
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Wherein everyone needs a hug. Especially Ryan.
Disclaimer: Alas, I own them not. In fact, Fox kind of owns *me* right now.
Previously, on The O.C.
Episodes: Pilot - The Outsider. Ryan kisses Seth in the kitchen. Seth kisses Ryan on the beach. Mrs. Peacock with the rope in the Conservatory. Seth tries new things. Ryan has issues with Seth’s forwardness. Seth has angst. Ryan eats, plays video games, and has denial issues. Seth has babbling issues, and asks Marissa to hook him up with Summer.
From Here to Eternity part 3: To Love and to be Loved
Marissa’s hand had been poised casually on her hip, but after Seth spoke, it moved quickly to her mouth, as if to cover a smile. She recovered promptly, brushing a strand of impeccably highlighted hair behind her ear.
“You want me to hook you up with Summer?” she echoed, incredulity creeping into her voice
“What?” Seth asked, extending his hands towards her, palms up. “Is that such an out there question?”
Marissa laughed, although not maliciously. “I think she’s still mad that you never invited her to your grandpa’s party. She said something about missing out on banker brokers?”
“Well, you know, she’s in luck ‘cause I’m the next best thing to a banker broker.”
“Somehow I don’t think she’ll believe that.”
“Please, Marissa, you’ve got to help me on this one. I scratch your back, you scratch mine? We share in the scratching duties?” Seth’s voice wasn’t as much desperate as it was pleading. The difference was small, but distinct, like that between a brand name cereal versus the generic store label. Desperation would have meant that this was something he really *wanted*, instead of something he just felt he *needed*.
Marissa raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see why I have to scratch your back, Cohen. As I recall, the whole Ryan thing fell flat.”
“Cause you chose Luke.”
“No.” Marissa cast her eyes at the ground before reconnecting with Seth’s. “Because Ryan chose you.”
Seth blinked rapidly and attempted to laugh, but it came out stilted. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” At that moment, Seth would have given his iPod, his pinky finger, *and* his Tarantino-signed collector’s edition of True Romance to be a better liar.
“Look, I’m not…” she paused, her body relaxing slightly. “Do you want to come in?”
“Yeah, because a way to make this conversation even more awkward is to have your mom walk in on it.” Seth mumbled to the front stoop.
“She’s not home.” Marissa said softly.
“It’s alright. In fact I’ll…” He motioned back to his own house and took a step back.
Marissa stopped him by stepping outside and closing the door. She sat down on the stoop, smoothing her pastel skirt over the tops of her thighs with both hands. Seth followed, and they sat beside each other, each staring blankly into the street in the distance.
Seth scratched at his palm, then picked at a miniscule hole in his jeans before taking a quick glance at Marissa. One of her hands was crossed over her body, massaging a shoulder distractedly.
“Um.” Seth began. “So, uh, when did you, uh, know?”
“When? I don’t know.”
“Because I didn’t…”
“I know.” Marissa turned towards Seth.
“I didn’t try to take him from you.” Seth finished his cut-off sentence apologetically.
“I know.” Marissa repeated. “After Luke got shot…something just…changed? I guess maybe I always knew. He never looked at me quite the same way he looked at you.” Her voice was weary, and under her makeup there were signs of circles under her blue eyes.
“Luke?” Seth attempted to joke. “Well, they always say you beat up the one you care about, but I thought that we were past middle school crush techniques.”
Marissa gave Seth a Look that might have been a smile, but her eyes showed otherwise.
“Well, as far as Ryan goes, you and I are both kind of in the same boat now.” Seth conceded. “So, you know, I thought I’d give the whole Summer thing another shot. My dad thinks she’s hot, you know.”
“I’ll tell her that.” Marissa said with a faint trace of amusement. “She’s had a thing for dads in the past.”
Seth let out a short burst of laughter before his face fell into a stoic gaze again.
“We’re both kind of screwed, huh?” Marissa said to the air.
“Yeah,” Seth agreed with a sigh. “Definitely screwed.”
* * *
Instead of returning to his empty house, Seth wandered the streets of his neighborhood aimlessly. He scuffed the toes of his red Sauconys as his feet dragged over the cracked asphalt. Occasionally he would pick up an errant rock or a stick and chuck it at a street sign, letting out a silent, fist pumping cheer when one of the projectiles connected with a resounding clank.
For some unknown reason, his conversation with Marissa made Seth feel better. Not the-hills-are-alive better, but better nonetheless. Someone knew about his relationship with Ryan, and the world hadn’t imploded. It hadn’t even gotten crumbly around the edges.
But he still was at a loss as to how to make Ryan see that.
It seemed like Ryan was used to world crumbliness. His world was like a bad cookie that way. Seth supposed that he had a right to his distrust. In the past month, he’d been arrested, thrown out, taken in, essentially thrown out again, beat up repeatedly, abandoned and dismissed as a criminal by most of Newport’s finest. If anyone was entitled to issues, it was Ryan.
Still, Seth didn’t see why Ryan had to have issues with *him*. Or Marissa, for that matter.
He kicked at the curb before pivoting 180 degrees and striding purposefully back where he’d come from.
Ryan might act like he was afraid of sex, but Seth was damn sure that the Beatles were right on this one. The one thing he needed was love.
* * *
Seth barged into the poolhouse without knocking. A startled Ryan looked up from where he was sitting on the bed reading one of Seth’s comics and immediately straightened. He looked very young in his wrinkled grey sweats and v-neck undershirt, and Seth was immediately struck at how vulnerable Ryan seemed. Vulnerable was an adjective that didn’t often come to mind when thinking about Ryan. Hot? Edible? Rawr? Yes, yes, and double yes. But not vulnerable. Until now.
Seth stopped abruptly and stood just a few paces inside the door, as if he wanted to have a quick and easy escape route if things soured. His fingers tapped a pattern on his denim covered thigh until he stopped them by balling his hand into a fist.
The silence wasn’t just uncomfortable. It was suicidally painful. If there had been an oven nearby, Seth would have gone all Sylvia Plath. It was the second time he’d prayed for an easy death in less than a day. If he lived through this only to start writing confessional poetry about his vagina, he had no one to blame but Ryan.
Seth broke the silence with a burst of words. “Okay, you can’t do this anymore, dude. You push me away, you push Marissa away, and in case you hadn’t noticed, neither one of us is much the better for it.”
Ryan’s head tilted, and Seth thought he saw a glimmer of emotion within his eyes. He took a few steps more into the room, until he was inches away from the bed. In response, Ryan turned his head quickly to the side and stared at the filmy beige windowcoverings.
“Hey.” Seth tried again. “Stop being Egypt!”
This made Ryan’s head snap back attentively. “Egypt?” he asked incredulously, but this time, his eyes didn’t leave Seth.
Seth took this as encouragement and lowered his body onto the bed, although still further from Ryan than he would have liked. He didn’t answer the question.
“You know what Ryan?” Seth began. “At first I thought you were right, that maybe if I could find some way to prove to you that I’m not just some confused kid who doesn’t know what he wants, that you would stop questioning things and take me back. But then I realized that isn’t what this is all about.” He inhaled deeply and took a handful of Ryan’s sheets. “You’ve got to stop thinking that every little thing you do will get you taken away from here. Because I’m not gonna let that happen, and my mom and dad aren’t going to let that happen.”
“Even if I’m screwing their son?” Ryan interrupted bitterly.
“Even then. Incest issues aside, you’re a part of our family.”
Ryan’s body slumped further on the pillows.
Seth continued. “I need you. Marissa needs you. Hell, even my mom and dad probably need you, although for what besides carrying heavy things I’m not sure at the moment, but that doesn’t matter, what matters is that everyone here needs you, and that’s not going to change no matter who you’re sleeping with. Or not sleeping with, as the case may be.”
“Marissa doesn’t need me. She has Luke.”
Seth suppressed a snort. “Yes she does, she looks like shit, dude. Pretty much how I’m going to look if you keep doing this to me.”
Ryan’s eyes searched Seth questioningly. Seth sighed in response and scratched at his cheek with his free hand.
“Look, she knows about…” Seth trailed off and looked at Ryan. “Not that I told her.” He assured quickly in response to Ryan’s panicked gaze. “Just, be her friend, okay? Because I don’t think she has many good ones at the moment.” He bit the inside of his lip, hard. “And I need you to be my friend too, because I’ve got even less of those than Marissa.”
“I’m your friend, Seth. And Marissa’s too.” Ryan said in a deep voice.
“No, you’re not!” Seth burst, unwrapping the sheet from around his hand. “If you were my friend, you wouldn’t kiss me and run away without an explanation! You wouldn’t keep running away from people who care about you. News flash, Ry, this isn’t Chino. This isn’t even Newport a month ago. No one’s letting you leave here without going medieval on you. I’m not letting you leave me alone with the pod people.” Seth took a deep breath. “Even if that means we’re just going to have to be friends. Without privileges. Because it’s you I need, Ry, not anything else.”
Seth could feel his heart fluttering behind his striped polo as he finished speaking and looked at Ryan expectantly. Ryan’s expression was blank, but his cheeks were mottled pink and his nostrils flared slightly.
Seth leaned closer, placing his hand perilously near one of Ryan’s sock-clad feet. “So what do you say?”
--end of part 3--
for Z., who is a lot like Seth, and for Shima, who swears he never reads porn.
ETA: Next time, on The O.C.
Stay tuned for the inevitable porny conclusion!