WiP Amnesty
So, like, apparently this weekend was wip_amnesty time. Which means it is the perfect time for me to just give up. It was supposed to be set up as "misunderstanding - argument - romantic resolution" but I couldn't get the guys arguing in an appropriate way... I wanted Seth acting one way for reasons clear to the reader but not to Ryan, and... ugh. I just didn't have the skillz to pull it off the way I visualized it in my head. DUDES, I started this during season two, and the show is now going to be cancelled, and that is wrong.
Maybe I should rewrite it with more alcohol abuse on Seth's part; that usually works. Hmm.
Title: Two (Thousand) Men in a Boat
Author: Kevin (silk_knickers
Fandom: The OC
Pairing:Seth/Ryan
Rating:NC-17 Yeah, it never got there.
Genre: Humor, Futurefic
Spoilers: Through S4 to be safe, but nothing serious.
Summary: "But the hotties, Ryan! There were supposed to be hotties!"
Seth didn't notice anything amiss while he was making his way up the gangway, luggage in tow. He didn't spot anything strange when he took his first steps aboard the luxury cruise liner Infinity, or when he made his way down the short hallway into the opulent marble-and-oak Grand Foyer. Nothing struck him as odd about the line of men and women (but mostly just men) waiting in line to check in at the registration desk.
Perhaps it was the early hour -- he hadn't seen 8 AM since his first semester of art school -- but Seth was quite oblivious to what should, in retrospect, have been a dozen red flags that this was not at all what he'd signed on for.
At last, though, after a short wait in the queue with Ryan at his side, he found himself at the front desk, ready to check in. Only then did Seth pause, eyes widening in recognition at the sight of the little multicolored flags adorning the registration counter. He swallowed once, then turned to survey the room more slowly, noticing for the first time that nine out of ten people in the lobby were male (and that very few of those nine were paying any attention at all to the remaining ten percent that were female.) He turned back to the ticketing counter, squinting to count the stripes on the flag, twice, just to be sure.
A brass plate atop the registration desk declared "Absolutely No Refunds."
"Hey, isn't that..." Ryan started to ask, pointing at the rainbow flag.
"Yes, Ryan. I do believe that it is." Seth was very, very awake now.
"May I help you?" the man behind the desk said with a cheerful smile and a tilt of the head.
"I'm so going to kill Summer for this," Seth muttered.
~~~~~
Their cabin was on the Penthouse Deck. (Seth grimaced at the irony.) They'd sprung for the more expensive outside cabin with a small balcony. Summer had told them that having an inside cabin was for losers, and in any case their parents were paying for the trip, as an early college graduation gift, so the considerable difference in price didn't matter. (Seth suspected that, given the choice, Ryan would have booked them in steerage, or not at all. This was part of the reason he'd let Summer make the plans.)
Seth's first impression of the room was that his parents had been ripped off; his dorm room back at school was bigger than this. The bulk of the space was taken up by a single queen-sized bed.
"There's only one bed," Seth observed numbly.
"So there is," Ryan replied. "You should've been a math major." He shouldered his way past Seth to throw his suitcase on the bed, then began unpacking his clothes into the dresser drawers. Seth, still frozen with shock at their situation, watched him work.
"Ryan," Seth said, enunciating each syllable with care. "You do realize that we're on a gay cruise, right?"
Ryan paused, a stack of boxer shorts in each hand, and considered Seth's words for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Yeah. The 'Welcome to Atlantis Gay and Lesbian Cruises' banner was my first clue."
Seth closed his eyes and opened them again, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that this was not, in fact, a bad dream. "So, we're on a gay cruise, with gay people, but we're not gay."
Ryan shrugged again. "So... Summer played a little joke on us. We laugh, enjoy the sun and the islands, have a few drinks, and relax for a week. It's not the end of the world."
"But the hotties, Ryan! There were supposed to be hotties!" Seth knew that Ryan was hard to faze, but this was ridiculous.
Ryan's lips quirked in a half-smile. "Next time you'll know to book your own vacations, then, instead of getting an ex-fiancee to do it for you."
"Summer's gone on a cruise with her family every year since she was three years old, Ryan. She swore to me that she knew all the best cruise lines, which ships to avoid, which destinations were the most fun. She betrayed us! We're on a boatful of men who would like nothing more than to eat us alive, and it's all her fault." With each sentence, his voice grew more shrill.
Ryan laughed and returned to his unpacking. "There's nothing we can do about it now, is there?"
Seth thought that Ryan wouldn't find their situation so funny in a day or two; no doubt the Chino charm would bring all the boys to the yard just as easily as it did the ladies.
"Okay, fine. Fine." Seth could be adult about this. Really, he could. "We'll stay. But if Kathy Lee -- or anyone dressed like Kathy Lee -- starts singing about fun ships and our friends seeing us now, I'm swimming back to the mainland."
~~~~~
Seth made noises about staying in their cabin except for the days they actually made landfall. Ryan was having none of it, though. "Your parents spent a lot of money for us to come on this cruise, Seth. We're not staying in the room all week. Now come on... they're having a free champagne welcome party on the main deck as soon as we leave port, and then we can go get lunch."
"Can't you just bring me back a sandwich or something?" Seth protested.
"No, Seth."
They made their way up to the main deck of the ship and pushed their way through throngs of oiled men toward the railing. The port of Ft. Lauterdale was bustling with activity, as passengers boarded cruise ships and workmen loaded and unloaded their cargoes. Seth looked wistfully at a Carnival liner a few berths over. There were probably plenty of young, nubile women on that ship.
Seth turned away from shore when a young waiter approached them, bearing a tray of narrow glass champagne flutes. "The captain will make a toast as soon as we're underway," the man murmured as Seth and Ryan took their glasses. Before he could turn away, though, Seth downed his glass in a single gulp and exchanged the empty for a full one.
"Nerves," Seth explained in response to the waiter's bemused gaze. "I'm afraid of long ocean voyages. I plan to be drunk all week." At his side, Ryan snorted softly. The waiter rolled his eyes and retreated.
Seth surveyed the crowd. He was all too painfully aware that he was out of place here. Most of the men around him were already darkly bronzed, from the sun or from hours in a UV bed in preparation for the trip. (Seth, having fair skin and no desire to develop melanoma, had not come similarly prepared. In fact, he had two bottles of SPF-50 in his luggage. He'd been hoping to find a young lady between 20 and 25 to apply it for him.) Half of the men were already shirtless in the morning sun, and most of those had bodies that clearly spoke of hours in a gymnasium. Seth was feeling every ounce of the "freshman fifteen" that had never quite gone away after four years of college.
Looking at his friend, he knew that Ryan would blend in just fine -- except for his being straight, of course. He'd managed, somehow, to maintain his California tan despite four years of all-nighters in the Berkeley architecture department, and he was quite possibly even more muscular and lean than when he'd arrived at the Cohens' door seven years ago. No one would think him at all out of place here.
Seth frowned. The initial shock of their situation was wearing off, to be replaced by anger... anger at Summer for doing this to him. He took another swig of the champagne. As soon as he could find a telephone, heads would roll.
~~~~~
"I'm not going to a drag show, Ryan."
"Think of it as exploring a different culture," Ryan replied. "Your parents paid too much..."
"...for us to hide in the cabin all week, yes, yes; you've said it twenty times now. But do you know what my mother would say if she knew where we are right now?"
"Your mother organized the Newport AIDS Awareness Charity Ball for the last three years. And Sandy's worked pro bono for the ACLU and the HRC plenty of times."
"Okay, fine. But drag? That's so..."
"Stereotypical?"
"Yes, that's it. It's too stereotypical. I'm offended on behalf of gay people everywhere."
"But the gay people are the ones organizing it."
"Yes, but..."
"We're going, Seth."
~~~~~
They arrived at the theater a bit early, so Ryan was able to tip the waiter $20 to seat them near the front -- and to stop Seth from tipping him even more to seat them in the rear. The theater was massive, three decks high and large enough to seat a third of the ship's passengers at any one time. Eight or ten chairs were arranged along the sides of narrow tables that ran perpendicular to the stage, with additional plush booths at the back end of each tier. They were seated stage left, right up against the stage itself. Seth tried to sit with his back to the stage center, but Ryan grabbed him by the arm and manhandled him in to sit next to him rather than opposite, so they both faced the center of the room. When they sat, the closely spaced chairs forced their legs to touch. Seth was starting to wish that at least one of them had worn long pants; the brush of Ryan's leg hair against Seth's skin was a little distracting.
In the next few minutes, the crowd filed in. Seth eyed the rest of the audience wistfully... everyone seemed to be having a good time, everyone but him. He sighed. This was going to be a long vacation.
Soon, the lights dimmed and a thumping techno beat came over the sound system. "Ladies and gentlemen... Atlantis cruise lines is proud to present... Ms Francesca Renaldi!"
The curtains opened, revealing a tall figure in a tight sequined dress. She was heavy (250 pounds if an ounce), and coated in heavy make-up, and very much not a woman.
"Hel-lo!" she cooed into her microphone. "How's everyone doing tonight?" There was a round of applause from the audience. The drag queen took a half step back and frowned. "I can't hear you. I asked, how's everyone doing tonight?"
This time the applause was accompanied by hooting and hollering from the audience. A couple of older bearish men across the table from Seth and Ryan seemed to be the loudest in the bunch, grinning widely up at the stage.
"That's much better. So, this is the first night of our little cruise of the very romantic Carribean seas. I'd like to do a little survey... how many of you," she paused, "have gotten laid already?"
The audience laughed, and a truly disturbing number of men in the back raised their hands or pointed at their friends.
"Well don't worry, boys. We've got a whole week to get it on. And now it's time to get this party started! Have we got a show for you tonight! We're going to start with a little number by my good friend, Miss Anna Gottadivita. And remember, don't be shy with the tips. Looking this good doesn't come cheap!"
Francesca moved off to the side while the lights took on a blue-tinted hue and the music stopped. A new song started up; Seth couldn't quite make out all the words over the yells of the crowd, but it seemed to involve the licking of various body parts. A tall, thin black drag queen - was she still a drag queen if she actually had breasts? - stepped out from stage left and began to lip synch to the music. Almost immediately a line of men formed at the stairs on one side of the stage, dollar bills held high. The drag queen continued to perform to the audience for a minute before deigning to notice the supplicants. She then made her way to that end of the stage and began to take the money with a handshake and a kiss during an instrumental break in the music.
Seth watched, eyes agog.
Soon the song was over, and another began. This drag queen was Latino... Latina? She wore a huge feathery dress with ruffles and a bright pink straw hat, while lip synching to La Isla Bonita. The third performer was Francesca again, in an entirely different outfit... tight black vinyl, it looked like... and she sang a song that Seth didn't recognize. It was apparently a big hit among the audience, though; presumably he and Ryan were the least-experienced in the room about what went on in a drag show or the kinds of songs that were performed.
Seth turned to Ryan to make just that remark, and caught him watching Seth with a little smirk. Seth's smile faded into a glare, and he turned back to the show.
As soon as Francesca's set was over the lights switched back to yellow. "Whew!" the drag queen said, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her wrist. "I haven't had that much fun since Fire Island, 1993." The crowd laughed, but Seth didn't get it. "So how is everyone doing now?" she cried into the mike.
The audience went wild. Seth clapped politely.
"Okay, boys. I've got something a little special planned for one lucky audience member. It's going to be just fabulous, I promise." She scanned the audience, looking over the men near the front of the stage. "Now just who should I pick?" Seth pretended he was invisible. "You, with the curly hair!" It hadn't worked. "Come on up here."
Seth really wanted to run, but the spotlight was directed right on him, and the tables and chairs were packed far too close for a quick escape in any case. He turned to Ryan for support. Ryan had a too-innocent expression on his face.
"You were pointing at me, weren't you?" Seth muttered.
Ryan raised an eyebrow.
"Traitor." Reluctantly, to the crowd's cheers, he stood and stepped up onto the seat of his chair and then onto the stage.
"Well, look at you. What's your name, sweetheart?"
Seth's crossed his arms across his chest, his shoulders rounded in. "Seth," he answered into the microphone.
"You look like a college boy. Where do you go?"
"RISD." He was sweating under the heat of the lights.
"Oooh, an artiste! I love the creative types. Now tell me, is this your first gay cruise?"
Seth choked on a laugh. "Yeah."
"The silent type too, I see. Was that your boyfriend down there with you?"
"Not... not exactly."
"Oooh," Francesca said, turning to the audience. "An open relationship." She leaned over toward Ryan and mock-whispered into the mike, "Come see me after the show, baby." The crowd laughed, and Seth flushed bright red.
Francesca stood back up and turned to Seth again. "Have you ever done drag before, Seth?"
"Uh... no." Halloween didn't count, right? (That, too, had been all Summer's fault. She had a lot to answer for.)
"Have you ever wanted to do drag?"
Seth shook his head, stomach sinking to his feet.
"Well that doesn't matter," she said, gesturing grandly at the audience. "We're going to POP your drag cherry tonight. We're going to give you a full-on glamour girl makeover and then let you do a little number for us. How would you like that?"
Summer was going to die. Slowly.
The audience was hooting and hollering their appreciation of the idea. He looked down at Ryan, who had no sympathy at all in his eyes. He was grinning up at Seth.
Ryan might have to die too.
Seth sighed. "Okay."
~~~~~
"I'm going to kill you."
Ryan's lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile.
"We're supposed to be brothers, Ryan. Brothers. Brothers do not make their brother wear make-up and heels."
"Come on, Seth. No one will even remember by tomorrow."
"Can we just get back to the cabin? I need to get this stuff off my face before someone takes a picture. You know, this will ruin my career in politics."
"You hate politics."
"I hate politics now, Ryan. In twenty years, I might change my mind. But now it's too late... a rising star in the civic sphere brought crashing back to earth before his time by an ill-advised youthful brush with transvestitism." Seth lengthened his strides. The cabin just had to be close; it was a boat, for god's sake.
"Okay, I understand that you're upset. But what's the big deal? You're never going to see any of these people again."
"I was in women's clothing and make-up lip-synching to Celine Deon in front of several hundred gay men, Ryan." Seth fumbled in his pocket for his room key as they finally -- finally! -- reached their cabin.
Ryan chuckled, low and deep. "How'd you know all the words, anyway?"
Seth sent a death-stare at Ryan from under his heavily mascara'ed lashes. "The song wasn't all that lyrically complex." He shoved his key through the key reader so aggressively that the machine didn't recognize it. With a low growl of frustration, he tried it again more slowly and stormed into their room, going straight to the tiny bathroom, where he slammed the door behind him and ran the tap.
"Seth, listen... I'm sorry for teasing you. I didn't think you'd be so sensitive about all this," Ryan called through the door.
Seth gripped the edge of the sink and closed his eyes, breathing deeply and trying not to lose it.
"Seth? Are you okay in there?" Ryan sounded a little worried now.
"I'm fine," Seth called back, eyes still shut. "I'm fine."
~~~~~
That night Seth lay awake in bed beside Ryan, thoughts churning in futile circles. Six nights, he thought. I can survive six nights.
~~~~~
The next morning, Seth looked at the cruise schedule again. "Okay, this looks good," he called to Ryan. "We're arriving in Freeport on Grand Bahama Island at noon. We have until five tomorrow afternoon to chill on the island... away from the boat."
"I think they call it a 'ship' when it's this big," Ryan observed from the bathroom, where he was brushing his teeth.
"Just don't call it a ferry," Seth muttered.
"What's that?" Ryan asked through a mouthful of toothpaste.
"Nothing. I'm going to look through the brochures Summer gave us for the islands, see what there is to do."
A few minutes later, Ryan emerged from the bathroom. "So, are you ready for breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Seth," Ryan said impatiently.
Seth sighed. "Fine." He picked up a pair of sunglasses from the nightstand and slipped them on.
Ryan turned to go, then hesitated. "This really bothers you, doesn't it?"
Seth shrugged.
Ryan looked at him, an inquisitive expression on his face. When Seth didn't elaborate, Ryan spoke again. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't think she'd actually pick you."
"It's fine," Seth mumbled.
"Really."
"Let's just go eat, okay?"
"Fine." Ryan turned with a frown to leave the cabin.
~~~~~
To Seth's relief, they were able to find a table for two at breakfast. Still, he couldn't help but feel that everyone's eyes were on him while he waited in line at the buffet. In the end, all he picked up was a slice of cantalope and a bagel; he really wasn't that hungry.
Ryan filled his plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and mini waffles.
At the table, they ate in silence. Once, Ryan looked like he was about to say something, but he stopped at a warning look from Seth. After the meal, they went right back to the cabin.
"So, I thought we could maybe go snorkeling today," Seth offered once they were safely back in the confines of their room.
"That sounds good. The water's supposed to be pretty clear here."
And after that, they were fine again - more or less.
~~~~~
Away from the boat (ship, rather) Seth began to relax again. The sky was brilliant blue, dotted with puffy white clouds. The water, so different than his familiar Pacific, was green, and the bottom was sandy and clearly visible even from the pier at which their ship was berthed.
Ashore they quickly separated from the rest of the cruisers, finding a taxicab that would take them to a beach on the other side of the island. They spent the day snorkeling, and Ryan even convinced Seth to try parasailing. Seth drew the line at riding on a bananaboat, though - the "boat" was literally a long and narrow yellow inflatable raft that was dragged at high speeds behind a motorboat. Seth said it was too phallic, and refused to even consider it.
That night, Seth was even relaxed enough to fall asleep beside Ryan - although he was awakened at 4 am by the extracurricular activities of the occupants of the adjoining cabin. After that, he couldn't fall asleep again, all too aware of the untouchable warm body beside him and his own confused emotions.
The next day, Seth and Ryan returned to the island. This time they spent the day in the markets and the casino. It was good to mingle among the other tourists for a while, away from all the testosterone and masculinity, the Hollywood good looks and overgroomed bodies.
In the late afternoon, Seth noticed a payphone and almost ditched Ryan to place that accusatory call to Summer. But just then Ryan looked down at his wristwatch and suggested that they head back to the ship, and Seth didn't know what he would say anyway.
~~~~~
That night, Seth left Ryan napping in the cabin and ventured to one of the upper decks to look at the stars. The night was cool and breezy, and the sky clear. The hum of the ship's engines resonated through the deck and his lounge chair, giving him a bone-deep massage.
"Well, what's a sweet young thing like you doing in a place like this?" a voice asked, startling him. Seth looked over and saw a shadowy form approach him, dimly lit by the floodlights of the lower decks. He tensed up.
"Uhm... sorry, man. I'm not looking for anything."
The large man snorted. "Oh, honey, relax. I've got a husband." He sat down on the lounge chair next to Seth, uninvited, and held out a hand to shake. "You probably don't recognize me out of costume. I'm Frank... you met me the other day as Francesca."
Seth blushed, and gingerly took the hand. "Oh, ah. Yeah. I didn't recognize you. It's... dark."
Frank continued, unfazed. "So, why are you sitting up here alone and looking so sad on such a beautiful night?"
Seth sat back in his chair and looked up at the sky, looking for the Big Dipper. "It's a long story."
"Hmm. Well, that doesn't sound encouraging. Did you and your man have a little fight?"
"Ryan's not my boyfriend."
"Oh, I see," Frank said. "I bet you wish he was."
Seth swallowed. "We're not gay. We're here by accident."
Frank made a snorting noise of disbelief. "Well, hon, I'll have to send my gaydar in for servicing then, because I saw the look on his face when you were performing last night, and it wasn't the kind of look a straight man gives to his straight friend, if you know what I mean. And you definitely have the look of a man pining away right now, or my name's not Francesca Renaldi."
Seth looked over at the other man. "Please. Ryan's like the straightest guy I know. He's had plenty of girlfriends."
"Mmm. Well, you know they say that most of us are bisexual, or could be for the right person."
Seth knew all about bisexuality; he went to art school for heaven's sake. But Ryan? Never.
And that was the problem.
"Oh, honey, life is too short to be unhappy. Give him a shot; he might surprise you. And if he really isn't gay, well, you're never going to find so many available bachelors in one place at one time as you will this week. Take advantage of it while you're young. Trust me on that."
Seth was unnerved to be taking advice from a drag queen, but the last three days had hardly been typical. "Uh, thanks. I guess."
"Don't mention it. Now go get him, tiger."
~~~~~
But when Seth got back to the cabin, Ryan was gone. There was a note on the dresser, "Gone to fitness center; be back soon."
I think it started to go awry around the time of the drag show... seriously, I rewrote the beginning of the story at least four times, and the scene after the "bon voyage toast" changed in each revision. ARGH!
Maybe I should rewrite it with more alcohol abuse on Seth's part; that usually works. Hmm.
Title: Two (Thousand) Men in a Boat
Author: Kevin (silk_knickers
Fandom: The OC
Pairing:Seth/Ryan
Rating:NC-17 Yeah, it never got there.
Genre: Humor, Futurefic
Spoilers: Through S4 to be safe, but nothing serious.
Summary: "But the hotties, Ryan! There were supposed to be hotties!"
Seth didn't notice anything amiss while he was making his way up the gangway, luggage in tow. He didn't spot anything strange when he took his first steps aboard the luxury cruise liner Infinity, or when he made his way down the short hallway into the opulent marble-and-oak Grand Foyer. Nothing struck him as odd about the line of men and women (but mostly just men) waiting in line to check in at the registration desk.
Perhaps it was the early hour -- he hadn't seen 8 AM since his first semester of art school -- but Seth was quite oblivious to what should, in retrospect, have been a dozen red flags that this was not at all what he'd signed on for.
At last, though, after a short wait in the queue with Ryan at his side, he found himself at the front desk, ready to check in. Only then did Seth pause, eyes widening in recognition at the sight of the little multicolored flags adorning the registration counter. He swallowed once, then turned to survey the room more slowly, noticing for the first time that nine out of ten people in the lobby were male (and that very few of those nine were paying any attention at all to the remaining ten percent that were female.) He turned back to the ticketing counter, squinting to count the stripes on the flag, twice, just to be sure.
A brass plate atop the registration desk declared "Absolutely No Refunds."
"Hey, isn't that..." Ryan started to ask, pointing at the rainbow flag.
"Yes, Ryan. I do believe that it is." Seth was very, very awake now.
"May I help you?" the man behind the desk said with a cheerful smile and a tilt of the head.
"I'm so going to kill Summer for this," Seth muttered.
~~~~~
Their cabin was on the Penthouse Deck. (Seth grimaced at the irony.) They'd sprung for the more expensive outside cabin with a small balcony. Summer had told them that having an inside cabin was for losers, and in any case their parents were paying for the trip, as an early college graduation gift, so the considerable difference in price didn't matter. (Seth suspected that, given the choice, Ryan would have booked them in steerage, or not at all. This was part of the reason he'd let Summer make the plans.)
Seth's first impression of the room was that his parents had been ripped off; his dorm room back at school was bigger than this. The bulk of the space was taken up by a single queen-sized bed.
"There's only one bed," Seth observed numbly.
"So there is," Ryan replied. "You should've been a math major." He shouldered his way past Seth to throw his suitcase on the bed, then began unpacking his clothes into the dresser drawers. Seth, still frozen with shock at their situation, watched him work.
"Ryan," Seth said, enunciating each syllable with care. "You do realize that we're on a gay cruise, right?"
Ryan paused, a stack of boxer shorts in each hand, and considered Seth's words for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Yeah. The 'Welcome to Atlantis Gay and Lesbian Cruises' banner was my first clue."
Seth closed his eyes and opened them again, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that this was not, in fact, a bad dream. "So, we're on a gay cruise, with gay people, but we're not gay."
Ryan shrugged again. "So... Summer played a little joke on us. We laugh, enjoy the sun and the islands, have a few drinks, and relax for a week. It's not the end of the world."
"But the hotties, Ryan! There were supposed to be hotties!" Seth knew that Ryan was hard to faze, but this was ridiculous.
Ryan's lips quirked in a half-smile. "Next time you'll know to book your own vacations, then, instead of getting an ex-fiancee to do it for you."
"Summer's gone on a cruise with her family every year since she was three years old, Ryan. She swore to me that she knew all the best cruise lines, which ships to avoid, which destinations were the most fun. She betrayed us! We're on a boatful of men who would like nothing more than to eat us alive, and it's all her fault." With each sentence, his voice grew more shrill.
Ryan laughed and returned to his unpacking. "There's nothing we can do about it now, is there?"
Seth thought that Ryan wouldn't find their situation so funny in a day or two; no doubt the Chino charm would bring all the boys to the yard just as easily as it did the ladies.
"Okay, fine. Fine." Seth could be adult about this. Really, he could. "We'll stay. But if Kathy Lee -- or anyone dressed like Kathy Lee -- starts singing about fun ships and our friends seeing us now, I'm swimming back to the mainland."
~~~~~
Seth made noises about staying in their cabin except for the days they actually made landfall. Ryan was having none of it, though. "Your parents spent a lot of money for us to come on this cruise, Seth. We're not staying in the room all week. Now come on... they're having a free champagne welcome party on the main deck as soon as we leave port, and then we can go get lunch."
"Can't you just bring me back a sandwich or something?" Seth protested.
"No, Seth."
They made their way up to the main deck of the ship and pushed their way through throngs of oiled men toward the railing. The port of Ft. Lauterdale was bustling with activity, as passengers boarded cruise ships and workmen loaded and unloaded their cargoes. Seth looked wistfully at a Carnival liner a few berths over. There were probably plenty of young, nubile women on that ship.
Seth turned away from shore when a young waiter approached them, bearing a tray of narrow glass champagne flutes. "The captain will make a toast as soon as we're underway," the man murmured as Seth and Ryan took their glasses. Before he could turn away, though, Seth downed his glass in a single gulp and exchanged the empty for a full one.
"Nerves," Seth explained in response to the waiter's bemused gaze. "I'm afraid of long ocean voyages. I plan to be drunk all week." At his side, Ryan snorted softly. The waiter rolled his eyes and retreated.
Seth surveyed the crowd. He was all too painfully aware that he was out of place here. Most of the men around him were already darkly bronzed, from the sun or from hours in a UV bed in preparation for the trip. (Seth, having fair skin and no desire to develop melanoma, had not come similarly prepared. In fact, he had two bottles of SPF-50 in his luggage. He'd been hoping to find a young lady between 20 and 25 to apply it for him.) Half of the men were already shirtless in the morning sun, and most of those had bodies that clearly spoke of hours in a gymnasium. Seth was feeling every ounce of the "freshman fifteen" that had never quite gone away after four years of college.
Looking at his friend, he knew that Ryan would blend in just fine -- except for his being straight, of course. He'd managed, somehow, to maintain his California tan despite four years of all-nighters in the Berkeley architecture department, and he was quite possibly even more muscular and lean than when he'd arrived at the Cohens' door seven years ago. No one would think him at all out of place here.
Seth frowned. The initial shock of their situation was wearing off, to be replaced by anger... anger at Summer for doing this to him. He took another swig of the champagne. As soon as he could find a telephone, heads would roll.
~~~~~
"I'm not going to a drag show, Ryan."
"Think of it as exploring a different culture," Ryan replied. "Your parents paid too much..."
"...for us to hide in the cabin all week, yes, yes; you've said it twenty times now. But do you know what my mother would say if she knew where we are right now?"
"Your mother organized the Newport AIDS Awareness Charity Ball for the last three years. And Sandy's worked pro bono for the ACLU and the HRC plenty of times."
"Okay, fine. But drag? That's so..."
"Stereotypical?"
"Yes, that's it. It's too stereotypical. I'm offended on behalf of gay people everywhere."
"But the gay people are the ones organizing it."
"Yes, but..."
"We're going, Seth."
~~~~~
They arrived at the theater a bit early, so Ryan was able to tip the waiter $20 to seat them near the front -- and to stop Seth from tipping him even more to seat them in the rear. The theater was massive, three decks high and large enough to seat a third of the ship's passengers at any one time. Eight or ten chairs were arranged along the sides of narrow tables that ran perpendicular to the stage, with additional plush booths at the back end of each tier. They were seated stage left, right up against the stage itself. Seth tried to sit with his back to the stage center, but Ryan grabbed him by the arm and manhandled him in to sit next to him rather than opposite, so they both faced the center of the room. When they sat, the closely spaced chairs forced their legs to touch. Seth was starting to wish that at least one of them had worn long pants; the brush of Ryan's leg hair against Seth's skin was a little distracting.
In the next few minutes, the crowd filed in. Seth eyed the rest of the audience wistfully... everyone seemed to be having a good time, everyone but him. He sighed. This was going to be a long vacation.
Soon, the lights dimmed and a thumping techno beat came over the sound system. "Ladies and gentlemen... Atlantis cruise lines is proud to present... Ms Francesca Renaldi!"
The curtains opened, revealing a tall figure in a tight sequined dress. She was heavy (250 pounds if an ounce), and coated in heavy make-up, and very much not a woman.
"Hel-lo!" she cooed into her microphone. "How's everyone doing tonight?" There was a round of applause from the audience. The drag queen took a half step back and frowned. "I can't hear you. I asked, how's everyone doing tonight?"
This time the applause was accompanied by hooting and hollering from the audience. A couple of older bearish men across the table from Seth and Ryan seemed to be the loudest in the bunch, grinning widely up at the stage.
"That's much better. So, this is the first night of our little cruise of the very romantic Carribean seas. I'd like to do a little survey... how many of you," she paused, "have gotten laid already?"
The audience laughed, and a truly disturbing number of men in the back raised their hands or pointed at their friends.
"Well don't worry, boys. We've got a whole week to get it on. And now it's time to get this party started! Have we got a show for you tonight! We're going to start with a little number by my good friend, Miss Anna Gottadivita. And remember, don't be shy with the tips. Looking this good doesn't come cheap!"
Francesca moved off to the side while the lights took on a blue-tinted hue and the music stopped. A new song started up; Seth couldn't quite make out all the words over the yells of the crowd, but it seemed to involve the licking of various body parts. A tall, thin black drag queen - was she still a drag queen if she actually had breasts? - stepped out from stage left and began to lip synch to the music. Almost immediately a line of men formed at the stairs on one side of the stage, dollar bills held high. The drag queen continued to perform to the audience for a minute before deigning to notice the supplicants. She then made her way to that end of the stage and began to take the money with a handshake and a kiss during an instrumental break in the music.
Seth watched, eyes agog.
Soon the song was over, and another began. This drag queen was Latino... Latina? She wore a huge feathery dress with ruffles and a bright pink straw hat, while lip synching to La Isla Bonita. The third performer was Francesca again, in an entirely different outfit... tight black vinyl, it looked like... and she sang a song that Seth didn't recognize. It was apparently a big hit among the audience, though; presumably he and Ryan were the least-experienced in the room about what went on in a drag show or the kinds of songs that were performed.
Seth turned to Ryan to make just that remark, and caught him watching Seth with a little smirk. Seth's smile faded into a glare, and he turned back to the show.
As soon as Francesca's set was over the lights switched back to yellow. "Whew!" the drag queen said, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her wrist. "I haven't had that much fun since Fire Island, 1993." The crowd laughed, but Seth didn't get it. "So how is everyone doing now?" she cried into the mike.
The audience went wild. Seth clapped politely.
"Okay, boys. I've got something a little special planned for one lucky audience member. It's going to be just fabulous, I promise." She scanned the audience, looking over the men near the front of the stage. "Now just who should I pick?" Seth pretended he was invisible. "You, with the curly hair!" It hadn't worked. "Come on up here."
Seth really wanted to run, but the spotlight was directed right on him, and the tables and chairs were packed far too close for a quick escape in any case. He turned to Ryan for support. Ryan had a too-innocent expression on his face.
"You were pointing at me, weren't you?" Seth muttered.
Ryan raised an eyebrow.
"Traitor." Reluctantly, to the crowd's cheers, he stood and stepped up onto the seat of his chair and then onto the stage.
"Well, look at you. What's your name, sweetheart?"
Seth's crossed his arms across his chest, his shoulders rounded in. "Seth," he answered into the microphone.
"You look like a college boy. Where do you go?"
"RISD." He was sweating under the heat of the lights.
"Oooh, an artiste! I love the creative types. Now tell me, is this your first gay cruise?"
Seth choked on a laugh. "Yeah."
"The silent type too, I see. Was that your boyfriend down there with you?"
"Not... not exactly."
"Oooh," Francesca said, turning to the audience. "An open relationship." She leaned over toward Ryan and mock-whispered into the mike, "Come see me after the show, baby." The crowd laughed, and Seth flushed bright red.
Francesca stood back up and turned to Seth again. "Have you ever done drag before, Seth?"
"Uh... no." Halloween didn't count, right? (That, too, had been all Summer's fault. She had a lot to answer for.)
"Have you ever wanted to do drag?"
Seth shook his head, stomach sinking to his feet.
"Well that doesn't matter," she said, gesturing grandly at the audience. "We're going to POP your drag cherry tonight. We're going to give you a full-on glamour girl makeover and then let you do a little number for us. How would you like that?"
Summer was going to die. Slowly.
The audience was hooting and hollering their appreciation of the idea. He looked down at Ryan, who had no sympathy at all in his eyes. He was grinning up at Seth.
Ryan might have to die too.
Seth sighed. "Okay."
~~~~~
"I'm going to kill you."
Ryan's lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile.
"We're supposed to be brothers, Ryan. Brothers. Brothers do not make their brother wear make-up and heels."
"Come on, Seth. No one will even remember by tomorrow."
"Can we just get back to the cabin? I need to get this stuff off my face before someone takes a picture. You know, this will ruin my career in politics."
"You hate politics."
"I hate politics now, Ryan. In twenty years, I might change my mind. But now it's too late... a rising star in the civic sphere brought crashing back to earth before his time by an ill-advised youthful brush with transvestitism." Seth lengthened his strides. The cabin just had to be close; it was a boat, for god's sake.
"Okay, I understand that you're upset. But what's the big deal? You're never going to see any of these people again."
"I was in women's clothing and make-up lip-synching to Celine Deon in front of several hundred gay men, Ryan." Seth fumbled in his pocket for his room key as they finally -- finally! -- reached their cabin.
Ryan chuckled, low and deep. "How'd you know all the words, anyway?"
Seth sent a death-stare at Ryan from under his heavily mascara'ed lashes. "The song wasn't all that lyrically complex." He shoved his key through the key reader so aggressively that the machine didn't recognize it. With a low growl of frustration, he tried it again more slowly and stormed into their room, going straight to the tiny bathroom, where he slammed the door behind him and ran the tap.
"Seth, listen... I'm sorry for teasing you. I didn't think you'd be so sensitive about all this," Ryan called through the door.
Seth gripped the edge of the sink and closed his eyes, breathing deeply and trying not to lose it.
"Seth? Are you okay in there?" Ryan sounded a little worried now.
"I'm fine," Seth called back, eyes still shut. "I'm fine."
~~~~~
That night Seth lay awake in bed beside Ryan, thoughts churning in futile circles. Six nights, he thought. I can survive six nights.
~~~~~
The next morning, Seth looked at the cruise schedule again. "Okay, this looks good," he called to Ryan. "We're arriving in Freeport on Grand Bahama Island at noon. We have until five tomorrow afternoon to chill on the island... away from the boat."
"I think they call it a 'ship' when it's this big," Ryan observed from the bathroom, where he was brushing his teeth.
"Just don't call it a ferry," Seth muttered.
"What's that?" Ryan asked through a mouthful of toothpaste.
"Nothing. I'm going to look through the brochures Summer gave us for the islands, see what there is to do."
A few minutes later, Ryan emerged from the bathroom. "So, are you ready for breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Seth," Ryan said impatiently.
Seth sighed. "Fine." He picked up a pair of sunglasses from the nightstand and slipped them on.
Ryan turned to go, then hesitated. "This really bothers you, doesn't it?"
Seth shrugged.
Ryan looked at him, an inquisitive expression on his face. When Seth didn't elaborate, Ryan spoke again. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't think she'd actually pick you."
"It's fine," Seth mumbled.
"Really."
"Let's just go eat, okay?"
"Fine." Ryan turned with a frown to leave the cabin.
~~~~~
To Seth's relief, they were able to find a table for two at breakfast. Still, he couldn't help but feel that everyone's eyes were on him while he waited in line at the buffet. In the end, all he picked up was a slice of cantalope and a bagel; he really wasn't that hungry.
Ryan filled his plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and mini waffles.
At the table, they ate in silence. Once, Ryan looked like he was about to say something, but he stopped at a warning look from Seth. After the meal, they went right back to the cabin.
"So, I thought we could maybe go snorkeling today," Seth offered once they were safely back in the confines of their room.
"That sounds good. The water's supposed to be pretty clear here."
And after that, they were fine again - more or less.
~~~~~
Away from the boat (ship, rather) Seth began to relax again. The sky was brilliant blue, dotted with puffy white clouds. The water, so different than his familiar Pacific, was green, and the bottom was sandy and clearly visible even from the pier at which their ship was berthed.
Ashore they quickly separated from the rest of the cruisers, finding a taxicab that would take them to a beach on the other side of the island. They spent the day snorkeling, and Ryan even convinced Seth to try parasailing. Seth drew the line at riding on a bananaboat, though - the "boat" was literally a long and narrow yellow inflatable raft that was dragged at high speeds behind a motorboat. Seth said it was too phallic, and refused to even consider it.
That night, Seth was even relaxed enough to fall asleep beside Ryan - although he was awakened at 4 am by the extracurricular activities of the occupants of the adjoining cabin. After that, he couldn't fall asleep again, all too aware of the untouchable warm body beside him and his own confused emotions.
The next day, Seth and Ryan returned to the island. This time they spent the day in the markets and the casino. It was good to mingle among the other tourists for a while, away from all the testosterone and masculinity, the Hollywood good looks and overgroomed bodies.
In the late afternoon, Seth noticed a payphone and almost ditched Ryan to place that accusatory call to Summer. But just then Ryan looked down at his wristwatch and suggested that they head back to the ship, and Seth didn't know what he would say anyway.
~~~~~
That night, Seth left Ryan napping in the cabin and ventured to one of the upper decks to look at the stars. The night was cool and breezy, and the sky clear. The hum of the ship's engines resonated through the deck and his lounge chair, giving him a bone-deep massage.
"Well, what's a sweet young thing like you doing in a place like this?" a voice asked, startling him. Seth looked over and saw a shadowy form approach him, dimly lit by the floodlights of the lower decks. He tensed up.
"Uhm... sorry, man. I'm not looking for anything."
The large man snorted. "Oh, honey, relax. I've got a husband." He sat down on the lounge chair next to Seth, uninvited, and held out a hand to shake. "You probably don't recognize me out of costume. I'm Frank... you met me the other day as Francesca."
Seth blushed, and gingerly took the hand. "Oh, ah. Yeah. I didn't recognize you. It's... dark."
Frank continued, unfazed. "So, why are you sitting up here alone and looking so sad on such a beautiful night?"
Seth sat back in his chair and looked up at the sky, looking for the Big Dipper. "It's a long story."
"Hmm. Well, that doesn't sound encouraging. Did you and your man have a little fight?"
"Ryan's not my boyfriend."
"Oh, I see," Frank said. "I bet you wish he was."
Seth swallowed. "We're not gay. We're here by accident."
Frank made a snorting noise of disbelief. "Well, hon, I'll have to send my gaydar in for servicing then, because I saw the look on his face when you were performing last night, and it wasn't the kind of look a straight man gives to his straight friend, if you know what I mean. And you definitely have the look of a man pining away right now, or my name's not Francesca Renaldi."
Seth looked over at the other man. "Please. Ryan's like the straightest guy I know. He's had plenty of girlfriends."
"Mmm. Well, you know they say that most of us are bisexual, or could be for the right person."
Seth knew all about bisexuality; he went to art school for heaven's sake. But Ryan? Never.
And that was the problem.
"Oh, honey, life is too short to be unhappy. Give him a shot; he might surprise you. And if he really isn't gay, well, you're never going to find so many available bachelors in one place at one time as you will this week. Take advantage of it while you're young. Trust me on that."
Seth was unnerved to be taking advice from a drag queen, but the last three days had hardly been typical. "Uh, thanks. I guess."
"Don't mention it. Now go get him, tiger."
~~~~~
But when Seth got back to the cabin, Ryan was gone. There was a note on the dresser, "Gone to fitness center; be back soon."
I think it started to go awry around the time of the drag show... seriously, I rewrote the beginning of the story at least four times, and the scene after the "bon voyage toast" changed in each revision. ARGH!