[oc] Empty rooms
I was going over my files (yes, again), and I realize that either I never posted this story, or I lost it in space and time. I think it's the first. I don't remember ever posting it. *sighs* Funny thing is, right now I'm writing a story (updated, post season four) that looks a little bit like this one, only better. Mostly because my writing has changed, has gotten better (in my opinion) and all that. But I hate seeing a story going missing, you know? So, yeah, I'm posting it. *shrugs*
Title: Empty rooms
Author: M. F. Luder
Fandom: The O.C.
Pairing: Ryan/Seth.
Rating: PG-13.
Category: Future fic.
Spoilers: Written years ago, so probably only up to season two.
Challenge and Premises: Written for 30_kisses, challenge 17. kHz (kilohertz). The rest of the stories can be found at The Small Table.
Author's note: Written years, years ago. So take that into account. *nods*
Betad by storydivagirl, and I know this because her style is unique. *nods* I will always love her.
x-posted to 30_kisses.
It's late and he should forget about it for the day, but Seth isn't back yet and the bed feels too empty without him.
Empty rooms
17. kHz (kilohertz)
Ryan closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Opening them slowly, he tilts his head. This isn't a presentation to be finished or work to be handed out. It's a model of his. He's been working on this for months, but can't seem to find the missing piece.
It's late and he should forget about it for the day, but Seth isn't back yet and the bed feels too empty without him.
Ryan picks up his cup of coffee and drinks half of it as he tries not to gaze at the model home. There's something he isn't seeing.
It's a Victorian house, with wide balconies and stained glass doors. He likes the colors and the design of the area. He likes how it looks, the layout out of the house, but something doesn't sit right at the same time.
Ryan shakes his head. Whatever it is, he won't see it tonight and his eyes shift to the clock on the wall.
Almost one in the morning.
He frowns. Seth said he'd be back around eleven.
He doesn't want to worry; he's not that kind of guy. He won't call Seth, wondering where he is. He won't ask questions because Seth probably lost track of time like he's done a million times.
He stands up, grabs the mug and walks out of the study. The lights are out, but he knows the hallways by memory. He makes his way toward the kitchen. He finishes his cup before reaching for the coffee pot. It was a present from Kirsten. Ryan thinks it might have been for their twelfth anniversary but He isn't sure.
He opens his fridge, taking out a slice of pizza from two days ago. He doesn't heat it up; Ryan likes it cold. Seth hates it unless it's dripping cheese, but Ryan got used to eating things cold many years ago. Seth doesn't like to remember that, and sometimes, neither does Ryan.
Closing the door, Ryan smiles, the corners of his lips turning upwards.
There's a picture on the door held up by a magnet and, though Ryan has seen it a million times, in that moment, it makes his chest swell.
It's Ryan and Seth, smiling down at the camera -- Seth's wider than Ryan's, as usual -- barely eighteen years old. They've got their diplomas in hand and are dressed for the occasion.
Ryan wants to grimace; he doesn't like the way he looks in a suit. But Seth is smiling, that wide grin that reminds Ryan of the sixteen-year-old boy he met and fell in love with. It makes him remember how much, and for how long, he's been in love with Seth. It makes Ryan fall in love with Seth all over again.
He sighs, slowly and under his breath. He picks up the coffee mug and walks out of the kitchen.
He can wait a little longer.
"I was thinking..." Ryan says, setting the table, "we should do something tomorrow. I don't know... go to the movies or something." The idea is almost stupid. "It's been ages since we last went."
Seth shrugs, serving dinner. He's tired and he barely talks when he's like this. He's gloomy and Ryan understands. It's been a tough month at work. "Nah, I don't think so. I'm not in the mood."
Ryan nods. He understands. "Oh. Okay."
"Sure."
Seth sits by Ryan's side, picking up his fork.
Ryan lets out a long sigh, looking at the food. He doesn't feel very hungry. He looks sideways at Seth and then sighs again. They don't say a word and, after a minute, Ryan gives up and starts eating.
"So, where's Cohen?"
Ryan shrugs, looking at his incomplete project. He still can't find the missing piece. "He said he'd be late."
Summer snorts, picking up her glass of whiskey. "Cohen, working late? That's a new one. That boy couldn't keep his hands off of you when you were in college."
Ryan doesn't blush, mostly because he can control that sort of thing, but also because he's used to Summer's lack of tact. "Summer..."
"What? I'm just calling it like I see it." She shrugs, taking another sip. She likes whiskey, though Ryan doesn't understand why; the taste is awful.
Ryan tilts his head. The house... there's something there he won't see, or can't see. Ryan rubs his eyes with his palms.
"That work?"
Ryan shakes his head. "No, not really--"
"Then you're wasting your time. Come on, take me shopping."
"Summer--"
"What? You're gonna wait for Cohen to get back?" She checks her watch. "It's almost twelve. Let's have lunch."
Ryan thinks about it for a second before nodding. It's Saturday, he's got no immediate projects, and Seth said he wouldn't be back until later that afternoon. He shrugs, grabbing his jacket.
"Great," she says, picking up her purse. "You're paying."
It's Saturday afternoon and Ryan picks up the pile of laundry. Seth refuses to do it himself. Ryan sighs, taking it downstairs to the washer and dryer.
Seth called earlier, telling Ryan that he has something to finish up and that he'll be back for dinner.
Ryan starts separating the colors from the whites. Ryan's undershirts are mostly white, with a few t-shirts of Seth's here and there. Some dress pants of Ryan's, and then a pair of Seth's.
Ryan checks the pockets, worried a bill or some important paper might go through, like the time when Seth had written four paragraphs of a story on a napkin and they ended up ironing it.
There's a piece of paper in Seth's pocket. Ryan read the words, frowns, and then bites his lower lip. Sighing, he takes a seat, pair of pants still in his hands. He tells himself it's nothing. As he reads the name of the hotel again, Ryan knows he's lying to himself.
Ryan takes another long drag of a cigarette he was supposed to have given up a year ago. He grimaces at the taste; he's forgotten just how it seems to fit at times.
He leans back against the chair, hand placed on top of the kitchen table. His fingers closed into a fist. The lights are turned off, night having crept in unnoticed.
He takes another drag. There's the sound of the engine coming closer and then it turns off. He closes his eyes for a moment. His heart beats faster, his right hand tightens, fingers dig into his palm.
He hears footsteps and the light of the kitchen turns on. He places his right hand over his eyes, shielding them as they sting.
"Ryan."
Ryan blinks, lowering his hand. Seth looks surprised, smile tight on his lips.
"Hey, I didn't think I'd find you here." Seth frowns, eyes on the cigarette, and says nothing. Ryan remembers a time when Seth would have bugged him about quitting.
He watches Seth take off his jacket, placing it on the back of the chair opposite where he's sitting. It's after midnight, even though Seth said he'd be back by dinner.
"I thought I'd wait up for you." Ryan says, a shrug of his shoulders.
Seth doesn't say anything as he walks toward the fridge and gets out the orange juice.
Ryan watches him move, Seth's back toward him. For a second, he's reminded of doing exactly this -- watching Seth walk, watch him when Seth didn't notice -- when he was nothing but a teenager, when he living with the Cohens. "I was doing laundry today."
"Oh, cool."
Ryan puts out the cigarette in the crystal ashtray by his hand. "It was interesting, to say the least." He reaches into his pocket, taking out the receipt. "I found this."
Seth turns around, tilts his head and stares at the white piece of paper. It takes a moment for his eyes to widen.
"Funny thing," Ryan says slowly, "it says here that you rented a room on Wednesday afternoon." He frowns, seeming confused. He can feel himself seething, his neck burning. "That's weird because I remember you telling me you had to work late on Wednesday. I remember you telling me you had things to do and you didn't get home until after two, right?" His lips are purse into a thin line and he feels his heartbeat quicken. "Right?"
Seth closes his eyes slowly. "Ryan..."
"No, I know what I heard," he says, standing up. He snorts. "And I know what I've got here. Now tell me I'm wrong."
Seth looks right at him. "Ryan..."
"Because I can't believe you'd lie to me." And words are just pouring from his throat, and they are stupid and pointless and he should-- "You, who used to tell me that lies would be the first thing to break us apart. That lies--"
"Ryan, it's not--"
Ryan shakes his head once. "Who is it?"
Seth blinks. "What?"
"Who is it?" Ryan swallows down the lump on his throat. He can feel his eyes burning. "Is it that asshole Richard? Is it him? I've seen the way he looks at you."
Seth shakes his head. "It's not like that."
Ryan snorts, and it's a painful sound. "Not like that? What Seth, you're gonna tell me now that nothing happened? That you two only talked?"
"Ryan--"
"Bullshit!" He's screaming now, his temper long lost. He doesn't remember the last time he felt this angry. "Tell me! Who is it?!"
"There's no one!"
"Don't you fucking lie to me!"
"I'm not lying!"
Ryan shakes his head. "I'm not an idiot, okay? I get it. You haven't touched me in months. I get it." Hands close to fists, piece of paper crumpling inside its grasp. "Who is it? If it's not Richard, then Andrew? I knew you liked him. I know you thought he was hot."
Seth takes a step forward, but stops when Ryan backs away from him. He flinches. "Ryan, please, it's not like that."
"Don't lie!"
Seth shakes his head, head hanging low. "Ryan..."
The back of his eyes sting and his lips tremble. Ryan bites down on his lower lip. He won't show weakness.
"Ryan..."
Ryan wipes his eyes, angry tears escaping through his tight hold. "I just want an answer."
"I'm telling you the truth." Seth takes a deep breath. He hates the fact that it has come to this. "There's no one."
"The fuck there isn't."
"There is no one!" Seth runs a shaky hand through his hair. "There isn't." He sighs. "I haven't been cheating on you."
Ryan snorts.
"I haven't. Just... hear me out, okay? Just hear me out."
Ryan nods tersely.
"I... haven't you noticed that something is missing?" Seth shrugs, squinting, seemingly lost. "Something... isn't there. I... I love you, of course I love you. I don't think I could not love you." The corners of his lips turn upwards, in a ghost of a smile of memories past. "I don't think there was ever a time when I didn't love you." His expression turns sour. "But... there's something that isn't there anymore."
Ryan folds his arms over his chest.
"You have to have noticed. I can't believe you haven't. There was a time when we spent every single minute together. I used to skip classes so I could see you, and you did the same so we could have lunch." Seth sighs. "You used to call me when you got off work so I could pick you up." Seth chuckles sadly. "We couldn't keep our hands of each other, remember?"
Ryan nods slowly. Summer had said the same thing.
"Now... when was the last time we went out together? When was the last time we stayed up late, just talking, just eating Chinese from the cartons, feeding each other as we sat on the kitchen floor, huh? When?"
Ryan can recall those memories, how perfect it had felt to sit there, eating, enjoying each other's company. He misses those times.
"When was the last time we went to the movies?"
"I said last week--"
"I know what you said, Ryan. I know. But that's the first time you've brought it up in months!" Seth shakes his head. "I've been feeling like this for months."
Ryan snorts. "Like what? And for months? Why haven't you said anything?"
"When, huh? You've been working nonstop--"
"You know I had a project to deliver--"
"I know that!" Seth closes his hands into fists, frustrated. "Ryan, I know this. I know. But... that doesn't mean we have to forget each other."
"So, you've just..."
"I've been renting rooms so I could think." He shrugs. "I needed to think, to ask myself..." He grimaces slightly, shaking his head. "If there was something to salvage out of this."
Ryan's face hardens and he stands stoically. "Well, then, tell me."
"Ryan, it isn't like that! We have to decide. We have to talk. Or have you forgotten about us?"
"I haven't forgotten shit and you know it. I know what you mean, and I know we have to talk." Ryan groans. "Shit... Seth... you should have told me."
Seth nods, and he chuckles under his breath. "Communication issues. We're the typical American marriage."
Ryan doesn't find it funny. "I... I love you."
"I know. I love you too."
Ryan sighs, looking down at the floor. It had been there for the longest time, that gap between them. Maybe Ryan was trying not to see it, pretending it could fix itself. It can't, it won't, and Ryan has to do something.
He looks at Seth out of the corner of his eye.
Seth's standing there, staring at the cupboards over the sink. There are bags and new wrinkles around his eyes. When did those appear? When and why didn't Ryan notice?
He used to know every line on Seth's body, every sound he made, every hitched breath held while Ryan kissed him senseless and mapped every inch of his skin. He used to make Seth melt with a simple kiss and a light touch of fingers over the hollow of his lower back.
Ryan wonders if he still can. He takes three steps toward Seth, closing the distance between them.
"Ry--?"
The words are captured by hungry lips that have decided to conquer, to behold once again the kingdom that used to be theirs. They seem to be on the right track.
Seth sighs into the kiss, and a heartbeat later, he whimpers. Ryan smirks. His fingers move under Seth's shirt, touching the spot just over Seth's hip and then his back. Seth presses himself against Ryan.
They barely make it to bedroom.
Ryan untangles himself from the arms and legs, standing up. He stretches, reaching for the ceiling.
"Ryan?"
He looks over his shoulder at Seth, hand reaching for Ryan's hand. Ryan can't help but smile. He takes Seth's hand in his, kissing it tenderly, licking a finger.
"Dude, you can't get enough of me, huh?"
Ryan chuckles, rolling his eyes as he does so. He squeezes Seth's hand. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?" Seth's eyes are closed, head burrowed on the pillow, and his voice is muffled. "Sleep."
"In a minute. I want to see if we closed the kitchen door."
A snort. "No way. Far too distracted."
Ryan chuckles, walking out of the bedroom and makes his way downstairs, a small smile on his lips. Incredible sex and the promise of a long date to the movies and then some Italian dinner tomorrow. He's certain it's a great beginning.
He crossed the kitchen and, as expected, the door's barely closed. He locks it and turns around, walking towards the staircase. Noticing a light on further down the hallway, he frowns.
It's his study, he realizes, and as his hand reaches for the switch, he sees the model standing in the middle of his worktable, built in thin wood. He looks down at the blue prints.
He knows what's missing. The rooms are too empty, too blank. There's no warmth, no feeling, no sensation from them. He makes quick sketches, places more windows, doors linking bedrooms and studies, lowers the ceiling.
Ryan stares down at his scribblings nods. This time, it feels alive. It has heart.
With a smile, he turns around, turning off the light after him. He walks towards the staircase and to his bedroom, the warmth of another body under the sheets, Seth's arms waiting for him.
Like I said, not exactly my best work, but I do hate stories written and never posted. *shrugs* I'm weird like that.
That said, I'm going to watch something now. *g*
Title: Empty rooms
Author: M. F. Luder
Fandom: The O.C.
Pairing: Ryan/Seth.
Rating: PG-13.
Category: Future fic.
Spoilers: Written years ago, so probably only up to season two.
Challenge and Premises: Written for 30_kisses, challenge 17. kHz (kilohertz). The rest of the stories can be found at The Small Table.
Author's note: Written years, years ago. So take that into account. *nods*
Betad by storydivagirl, and I know this because her style is unique. *nods* I will always love her.
x-posted to 30_kisses.
It's late and he should forget about it for the day, but Seth isn't back yet and the bed feels too empty without him.
Empty rooms
17. kHz (kilohertz)
Ryan closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Opening them slowly, he tilts his head. This isn't a presentation to be finished or work to be handed out. It's a model of his. He's been working on this for months, but can't seem to find the missing piece.
It's late and he should forget about it for the day, but Seth isn't back yet and the bed feels too empty without him.
Ryan picks up his cup of coffee and drinks half of it as he tries not to gaze at the model home. There's something he isn't seeing.
It's a Victorian house, with wide balconies and stained glass doors. He likes the colors and the design of the area. He likes how it looks, the layout out of the house, but something doesn't sit right at the same time.
Ryan shakes his head. Whatever it is, he won't see it tonight and his eyes shift to the clock on the wall.
Almost one in the morning.
He frowns. Seth said he'd be back around eleven.
He doesn't want to worry; he's not that kind of guy. He won't call Seth, wondering where he is. He won't ask questions because Seth probably lost track of time like he's done a million times.
He stands up, grabs the mug and walks out of the study. The lights are out, but he knows the hallways by memory. He makes his way toward the kitchen. He finishes his cup before reaching for the coffee pot. It was a present from Kirsten. Ryan thinks it might have been for their twelfth anniversary but He isn't sure.
He opens his fridge, taking out a slice of pizza from two days ago. He doesn't heat it up; Ryan likes it cold. Seth hates it unless it's dripping cheese, but Ryan got used to eating things cold many years ago. Seth doesn't like to remember that, and sometimes, neither does Ryan.
Closing the door, Ryan smiles, the corners of his lips turning upwards.
There's a picture on the door held up by a magnet and, though Ryan has seen it a million times, in that moment, it makes his chest swell.
It's Ryan and Seth, smiling down at the camera -- Seth's wider than Ryan's, as usual -- barely eighteen years old. They've got their diplomas in hand and are dressed for the occasion.
Ryan wants to grimace; he doesn't like the way he looks in a suit. But Seth is smiling, that wide grin that reminds Ryan of the sixteen-year-old boy he met and fell in love with. It makes him remember how much, and for how long, he's been in love with Seth. It makes Ryan fall in love with Seth all over again.
He sighs, slowly and under his breath. He picks up the coffee mug and walks out of the kitchen.
He can wait a little longer.
"I was thinking..." Ryan says, setting the table, "we should do something tomorrow. I don't know... go to the movies or something." The idea is almost stupid. "It's been ages since we last went."
Seth shrugs, serving dinner. He's tired and he barely talks when he's like this. He's gloomy and Ryan understands. It's been a tough month at work. "Nah, I don't think so. I'm not in the mood."
Ryan nods. He understands. "Oh. Okay."
"Sure."
Seth sits by Ryan's side, picking up his fork.
Ryan lets out a long sigh, looking at the food. He doesn't feel very hungry. He looks sideways at Seth and then sighs again. They don't say a word and, after a minute, Ryan gives up and starts eating.
"So, where's Cohen?"
Ryan shrugs, looking at his incomplete project. He still can't find the missing piece. "He said he'd be late."
Summer snorts, picking up her glass of whiskey. "Cohen, working late? That's a new one. That boy couldn't keep his hands off of you when you were in college."
Ryan doesn't blush, mostly because he can control that sort of thing, but also because he's used to Summer's lack of tact. "Summer..."
"What? I'm just calling it like I see it." She shrugs, taking another sip. She likes whiskey, though Ryan doesn't understand why; the taste is awful.
Ryan tilts his head. The house... there's something there he won't see, or can't see. Ryan rubs his eyes with his palms.
"That work?"
Ryan shakes his head. "No, not really--"
"Then you're wasting your time. Come on, take me shopping."
"Summer--"
"What? You're gonna wait for Cohen to get back?" She checks her watch. "It's almost twelve. Let's have lunch."
Ryan thinks about it for a second before nodding. It's Saturday, he's got no immediate projects, and Seth said he wouldn't be back until later that afternoon. He shrugs, grabbing his jacket.
"Great," she says, picking up her purse. "You're paying."
It's Saturday afternoon and Ryan picks up the pile of laundry. Seth refuses to do it himself. Ryan sighs, taking it downstairs to the washer and dryer.
Seth called earlier, telling Ryan that he has something to finish up and that he'll be back for dinner.
Ryan starts separating the colors from the whites. Ryan's undershirts are mostly white, with a few t-shirts of Seth's here and there. Some dress pants of Ryan's, and then a pair of Seth's.
Ryan checks the pockets, worried a bill or some important paper might go through, like the time when Seth had written four paragraphs of a story on a napkin and they ended up ironing it.
There's a piece of paper in Seth's pocket. Ryan read the words, frowns, and then bites his lower lip. Sighing, he takes a seat, pair of pants still in his hands. He tells himself it's nothing. As he reads the name of the hotel again, Ryan knows he's lying to himself.
Ryan takes another long drag of a cigarette he was supposed to have given up a year ago. He grimaces at the taste; he's forgotten just how it seems to fit at times.
He leans back against the chair, hand placed on top of the kitchen table. His fingers closed into a fist. The lights are turned off, night having crept in unnoticed.
He takes another drag. There's the sound of the engine coming closer and then it turns off. He closes his eyes for a moment. His heart beats faster, his right hand tightens, fingers dig into his palm.
He hears footsteps and the light of the kitchen turns on. He places his right hand over his eyes, shielding them as they sting.
"Ryan."
Ryan blinks, lowering his hand. Seth looks surprised, smile tight on his lips.
"Hey, I didn't think I'd find you here." Seth frowns, eyes on the cigarette, and says nothing. Ryan remembers a time when Seth would have bugged him about quitting.
He watches Seth take off his jacket, placing it on the back of the chair opposite where he's sitting. It's after midnight, even though Seth said he'd be back by dinner.
"I thought I'd wait up for you." Ryan says, a shrug of his shoulders.
Seth doesn't say anything as he walks toward the fridge and gets out the orange juice.
Ryan watches him move, Seth's back toward him. For a second, he's reminded of doing exactly this -- watching Seth walk, watch him when Seth didn't notice -- when he was nothing but a teenager, when he living with the Cohens. "I was doing laundry today."
"Oh, cool."
Ryan puts out the cigarette in the crystal ashtray by his hand. "It was interesting, to say the least." He reaches into his pocket, taking out the receipt. "I found this."
Seth turns around, tilts his head and stares at the white piece of paper. It takes a moment for his eyes to widen.
"Funny thing," Ryan says slowly, "it says here that you rented a room on Wednesday afternoon." He frowns, seeming confused. He can feel himself seething, his neck burning. "That's weird because I remember you telling me you had to work late on Wednesday. I remember you telling me you had things to do and you didn't get home until after two, right?" His lips are purse into a thin line and he feels his heartbeat quicken. "Right?"
Seth closes his eyes slowly. "Ryan..."
"No, I know what I heard," he says, standing up. He snorts. "And I know what I've got here. Now tell me I'm wrong."
Seth looks right at him. "Ryan..."
"Because I can't believe you'd lie to me." And words are just pouring from his throat, and they are stupid and pointless and he should-- "You, who used to tell me that lies would be the first thing to break us apart. That lies--"
"Ryan, it's not--"
Ryan shakes his head once. "Who is it?"
Seth blinks. "What?"
"Who is it?" Ryan swallows down the lump on his throat. He can feel his eyes burning. "Is it that asshole Richard? Is it him? I've seen the way he looks at you."
Seth shakes his head. "It's not like that."
Ryan snorts, and it's a painful sound. "Not like that? What Seth, you're gonna tell me now that nothing happened? That you two only talked?"
"Ryan--"
"Bullshit!" He's screaming now, his temper long lost. He doesn't remember the last time he felt this angry. "Tell me! Who is it?!"
"There's no one!"
"Don't you fucking lie to me!"
"I'm not lying!"
Ryan shakes his head. "I'm not an idiot, okay? I get it. You haven't touched me in months. I get it." Hands close to fists, piece of paper crumpling inside its grasp. "Who is it? If it's not Richard, then Andrew? I knew you liked him. I know you thought he was hot."
Seth takes a step forward, but stops when Ryan backs away from him. He flinches. "Ryan, please, it's not like that."
"Don't lie!"
Seth shakes his head, head hanging low. "Ryan..."
The back of his eyes sting and his lips tremble. Ryan bites down on his lower lip. He won't show weakness.
"Ryan..."
Ryan wipes his eyes, angry tears escaping through his tight hold. "I just want an answer."
"I'm telling you the truth." Seth takes a deep breath. He hates the fact that it has come to this. "There's no one."
"The fuck there isn't."
"There is no one!" Seth runs a shaky hand through his hair. "There isn't." He sighs. "I haven't been cheating on you."
Ryan snorts.
"I haven't. Just... hear me out, okay? Just hear me out."
Ryan nods tersely.
"I... haven't you noticed that something is missing?" Seth shrugs, squinting, seemingly lost. "Something... isn't there. I... I love you, of course I love you. I don't think I could not love you." The corners of his lips turn upwards, in a ghost of a smile of memories past. "I don't think there was ever a time when I didn't love you." His expression turns sour. "But... there's something that isn't there anymore."
Ryan folds his arms over his chest.
"You have to have noticed. I can't believe you haven't. There was a time when we spent every single minute together. I used to skip classes so I could see you, and you did the same so we could have lunch." Seth sighs. "You used to call me when you got off work so I could pick you up." Seth chuckles sadly. "We couldn't keep our hands of each other, remember?"
Ryan nods slowly. Summer had said the same thing.
"Now... when was the last time we went out together? When was the last time we stayed up late, just talking, just eating Chinese from the cartons, feeding each other as we sat on the kitchen floor, huh? When?"
Ryan can recall those memories, how perfect it had felt to sit there, eating, enjoying each other's company. He misses those times.
"When was the last time we went to the movies?"
"I said last week--"
"I know what you said, Ryan. I know. But that's the first time you've brought it up in months!" Seth shakes his head. "I've been feeling like this for months."
Ryan snorts. "Like what? And for months? Why haven't you said anything?"
"When, huh? You've been working nonstop--"
"You know I had a project to deliver--"
"I know that!" Seth closes his hands into fists, frustrated. "Ryan, I know this. I know. But... that doesn't mean we have to forget each other."
"So, you've just..."
"I've been renting rooms so I could think." He shrugs. "I needed to think, to ask myself..." He grimaces slightly, shaking his head. "If there was something to salvage out of this."
Ryan's face hardens and he stands stoically. "Well, then, tell me."
"Ryan, it isn't like that! We have to decide. We have to talk. Or have you forgotten about us?"
"I haven't forgotten shit and you know it. I know what you mean, and I know we have to talk." Ryan groans. "Shit... Seth... you should have told me."
Seth nods, and he chuckles under his breath. "Communication issues. We're the typical American marriage."
Ryan doesn't find it funny. "I... I love you."
"I know. I love you too."
Ryan sighs, looking down at the floor. It had been there for the longest time, that gap between them. Maybe Ryan was trying not to see it, pretending it could fix itself. It can't, it won't, and Ryan has to do something.
He looks at Seth out of the corner of his eye.
Seth's standing there, staring at the cupboards over the sink. There are bags and new wrinkles around his eyes. When did those appear? When and why didn't Ryan notice?
He used to know every line on Seth's body, every sound he made, every hitched breath held while Ryan kissed him senseless and mapped every inch of his skin. He used to make Seth melt with a simple kiss and a light touch of fingers over the hollow of his lower back.
Ryan wonders if he still can. He takes three steps toward Seth, closing the distance between them.
"Ry--?"
The words are captured by hungry lips that have decided to conquer, to behold once again the kingdom that used to be theirs. They seem to be on the right track.
Seth sighs into the kiss, and a heartbeat later, he whimpers. Ryan smirks. His fingers move under Seth's shirt, touching the spot just over Seth's hip and then his back. Seth presses himself against Ryan.
They barely make it to bedroom.
Ryan untangles himself from the arms and legs, standing up. He stretches, reaching for the ceiling.
"Ryan?"
He looks over his shoulder at Seth, hand reaching for Ryan's hand. Ryan can't help but smile. He takes Seth's hand in his, kissing it tenderly, licking a finger.
"Dude, you can't get enough of me, huh?"
Ryan chuckles, rolling his eyes as he does so. He squeezes Seth's hand. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?" Seth's eyes are closed, head burrowed on the pillow, and his voice is muffled. "Sleep."
"In a minute. I want to see if we closed the kitchen door."
A snort. "No way. Far too distracted."
Ryan chuckles, walking out of the bedroom and makes his way downstairs, a small smile on his lips. Incredible sex and the promise of a long date to the movies and then some Italian dinner tomorrow. He's certain it's a great beginning.
He crossed the kitchen and, as expected, the door's barely closed. He locks it and turns around, walking towards the staircase. Noticing a light on further down the hallway, he frowns.
It's his study, he realizes, and as his hand reaches for the switch, he sees the model standing in the middle of his worktable, built in thin wood. He looks down at the blue prints.
He knows what's missing. The rooms are too empty, too blank. There's no warmth, no feeling, no sensation from them. He makes quick sketches, places more windows, doors linking bedrooms and studies, lowers the ceiling.
Ryan stares down at his scribblings nods. This time, it feels alive. It has heart.
With a smile, he turns around, turning off the light after him. He walks towards the staircase and to his bedroom, the warmth of another body under the sheets, Seth's arms waiting for him.
Like I said, not exactly my best work, but I do hate stories written and never posted. *shrugs* I'm weird like that.
That said, I'm going to watch something now. *g*