Something To Believe In [The OC; Ryan/Kirsten]
TITLE: Something To Believe In
FANDOM: The OC
PAIRING: Ryan/Kirsten
SPOILERS: Season four
RATING: R
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Pseudo-inspired by Aqualung's "Something To Believe In"
SUMMARY:
*****
The rain woke Ryan before the thunder did. It wasn't often one heard the din of pouring rain in Southern California. He propped himself up on his elbows and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, staring out the doors beyond the foot of his bed. It was still late... or early, he wasn't sure which, and was too lazy to look behind him at the clock.
A light to his left drew his attention, and through the blur of the downpour he saw a distinctly feminine figure moving around the kitchen -- Kirsten. Ryan let out his breath, the mere thought of her, of her name, sending his pulse into overdrive. She'd unknowingly laid claim over his heart his first few days in Newport, and his infatuation with her had grown steadily day-by-day. Now, it was almost four years later and he could safely admit to himself (nobody else) that he was in love with Kirsten.
He saw things in her, knew things about her, that nobody else saw or knew. With just one look into her eyes he could read her thoughts verbatim, as if they were his own. He offered her silent strength and support when he saw her world crumbling around her, and drew the same strength from her when it was he that was weakened. Her pain became his pain; her laughter made him laugh. Four years was all it took for Kirsten to become everything to him.
And she'd been there for him through it all; he could say the same of no one else. Sandy was always off trying to save the world, Seth was too consumed with his own problems (more often than not, relating to Summer), and Marissa... well, Marissa had often-times been the source of Ryan's problems. And she had been his most recent one. Her death had taken a toll on him, made him feel guilty as if he could have done something more to prevent what had happened to her.
And while Sandy and Seth suggested he go see a therapist, talk to somebody, come home and sort out his problems without letting them consume him... Kirsten had just silently been there for him. She didn't offer advice, she didn't pester him about coming home when he had been away. She just often left messages on his voicemail to tell him how much she missed him, that she loved him, and that she would be there when he was ready to open up. That had meant more to him than he could have found words to express.
Ryan snapped back to the present when he saw the blur of Kirsten's svelte figure move to the door, and he wondered if she could sense that he, too, was awake. He reached over and turned on the lamp near his bed -- what he hoped would be a silent beacon -- then just sat waiting with his feet on the floor and his knees bent, arms draped over them. He smiled when he saw the door open... saw her moving quickly across the patio, up the steps and toward his door. He jumped up to meet her, and pulled the door open for her.
Instead of the surprise he thought he'd see on her face, he was rewarded with a bright smile, as if she'd been expecting him to be there for her. "Hi, you're up too?" She was alert for it being so late (or early -- where was his clock?), eyes alight and hands smoothing out the rain drops that had dampened her hair.
Ryan smiled and nodded, "Yeah," and grasped her forearm to gently tug her inside, shutting them away in the poolhouse together.
The giggle she gave as she continued her attempts to smooth out her long, dampened locks speared Ryan's heart and pushed it straight up into his throat. "It's really coming down out there," she stated, a bit redundantly but Ryan enjoyed the sound of her voice nonetheless.
"Looks like it." Without thinking, his hand went to her hair, combing through it effortlessly as he tried not to pay attention to her (very, very) wet pajamas. "You want a towel or something?"
"Sure." Ryan, so busy watching his fingers in her hair, completely missed the quaver in her tone and the way her eyes were cemented to him. "Thank you."
He disappeared into the bathroom for only a moment and emerged with a small towel, giving Kirsten a flirtatious smile as he tossed the towel onto her head. She giggled girlishly and thanked him again, patting her hair dry. Moments like these -- fun, easy, with just a hint of underlying flirtation and subtext -- were becoming more and more frequent these days. Ryan had a different work schedule than Sandy and Seth often did, and Kirsten set her own hours working from home, so since he'd been back they had been spending ample amounts of time together.
Sometimes they would do their own things, but together; Kirsten would sit on the couch and flip through binders from her dating service business, looking for candidates to set up with Newport's needy bachelorettes while Ryan would sit beside her, flipping through the channels on satellite, each enjoying the comfortable silence and each other's presence. Other times they would work together in the yard; and a few times Kirsten had read a book in the hot tub while Ryan swam laps in the pool. It was easy, it was comfortable... but at the same time, it was becoming unbearable.
Kirsten was well aware of Ryan's feelings for her; he knew just from looking into her eyes. That was one of the plusses of being able to read her so easily. And she hadn't once given him any indication that his feelings disgusted her or made her uncomfortable... so Ryan had taken that to mean that she possibly felt the same.
A week ago he had very nearly found out for certain. They'd been in the poolhouse, chatting (about what, it was hard to remember now), and they were sitting side-by-side on Ryan's bed. He had exhaustedly flopped backward, against the pillows and Kirsten had followed suit, both of them staring up at the ceiling fan while laying side-by-side, fused together from shoulder to hip. Kirsten had started talking out her frustrations with her dating service business, and had made some mention of chemistry -- how hard it was to set people up on dates for a living because of the unpredictability of chemistry.
Ryan had rolled onto his side to give her his full attention, propping himself up on his left elbow and leaning his head on his hand. Kirsten had gone on, meeting his eyes as she mentioned that sometimes chemistry could be found in unexpected or sometimes unwanted places. Ryan, his heart having skipped with the comment, asked her what she had meant by unwanted. He still remembered her response verbatim...
"Well, let's say that someone who's happily married and has been for years, one day meets someone out of the blue and something just... clicks. You know? Like maybe when they're introduced, their eyes meet and right away there's this overwhelming tension, this spark, like a switch has been flipped somewhere. And even though they may be completely wrong for each other on paper, and could never actually be together, there's something about it that just... works. It fits. Maybe it almost feels like home."
And as she had performed this soliloquoy of sorts, she'd scooted marginally closer to him, until he was practically hovering over her. She had been close enough that he could've slipped his hand completely around her slender waist.
"Home, huh?" he'd repeated.
"Yeah." She'd cleared her throat and back-tracked, "But th-that's what I kind of meant by unwanted chemistry. It's so unpredictable; you never know how two people are going to fit together until they... are together."
Ryan remembered the charge in the air (downright electric in nature) that day. He remembered the way she had sucked in a breath when he pressed his hand into the mattress for balance, just on the other side of her waist, as they stared into each other's eyes. He remembered the way her eyes drifted to his lips, and how he had scooted just a little bit closer to her. They had been so close to kissing... and would have if Kirsten's phone ringing hadn't startled them apart. It had been Julie, having a crisis with another built-in wall unit at the Roberts house, so Kirsten had had to run off and leave Ryan to battle his conscience.
He snapped back to the present, realizing Kirsten was looking expectantly at him with raised eyebrows. "Here, let me get you a change of clothes, Kirsten."
"Actually, do you have a robe?" Kirsten shivered and hugged herself around the middle. "I'm in need of something big and fluffy."
Ryan chuckled and averted his eyes to his spare clothes, wondering just how well she'd take it if he told her he'd be more than willing to warm her up. "I'm... not really a robe guy. But I've got sweatpants and stuff."
She grinned. "That works for me."
He handed her a spare set of sweatpants and one of his beaters, which she accepted with a smile, and went into the bathroom to change. Ryan exhaled heavily and looked around the room, his heart beating an odd rhythm at the thought that his clothes were going to be against her skin. Her scent would be on them, and his scent would be on her. There was something fulfilling and primal and... amazing about that.
When Kirsten emerged from the bathroom, Ryan fought not to let his breath catch in his throat. No other woman had ever looked as spectacular in his things as Kirsten did. He remembered when Marissa would sometimes wear his tee shirts or his sweatshirts. The clothes would hang off her bony frame and always made her look like she was drowning in the fabric. Kirsten looked... stunning.
She, too, was swimming in his clothes, but was far from drowning. The pants seemed to hang just right off her slender body, and the beater clung to her curves in a way that made his heart hammer in his chest. She had rolled up the cuffs of his sweatpants, which he smiled at. He looked up when he heard Kirsten's knowing chuckle.
"Yes, I know I look like a big dweeb, but at least I'm dry now."
He laughed, unable to help the face-splitting grin. "No, I was just thinking you look much, much cuter in my clothes than I do."
The smile he got from Kirsten was slightly open-mouthed, as if she was a little shocked by the compliment. Then, after a minute, she said softly, "Thanks."
Ryan nodded, averting his eyes so he wouldn't blush, and sat down at the foot of his bed. He bent his knees and draped his arms over them again, his right hand clasping his left wrist as he stared out at the storm. It wasn't long before he felt the mattress dip, felt Kirsten's right side connecting with his left... felt her looking over at him.
"You like storms, too?" she asked, as if picking up a conversation from somewhere in the middle.
Ryan smiled. "Yeah. I mean, I was scared of 'em when I was a kid, but now they're pretty cool. Kind of peaceful, in a weird way."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." She leaned her head on his shoulder, her long blonde hair falling over his arm, tickling the bare skin. She curled one hand around his arm. "Kinda like everything's getting washed away. Starting fresh."
Ryan exhaled his smile and looked down at her, his lips just millimeters from touching her forehead. He leaned his head on hers and moved his arm to take her hand. Immediately, their fingers laced together as if familiar with the gesture of affection -- Ryan's heart jolted in his chest with the realization: it was like they'd been dating for years.
They drifted into a comfortable, almost soothing silence. Ryan was certain he could've fallen asleep. Then he heard Kirsten's voice... low, sleepy... almost sexy. "What's your favorite part about a storm?"
"This," he smiled, and squeezed her hand. When he felt her tense slightly, he made sure to add, "Listening to the sounds of the storm."
"Hmmm," she hummed, and Ryan was pleased when she sunk against him again. "Me too." She sighed, and after a moment she asked him randomly, "Has anyone ever told you you make a very good pillow?"
"I do, huh?" He released her hand and, when she looked up at him in surprise, he smiled reassuringly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close again. "Well, good. I'm glad you're comfortable."
"Comfortable?" she balked, "I could fall asleep on you right now."
He chuckled. "Likewise."
"Ryan... what I said last week... about chemistry?"
Now it was his turn to tense a bit. "Uh, yeah?"
She lifted her head from his shoulder and his arm slipped down to her back, hand curving around her waist. "I'm sorry."
He searched her eyes. "For what?"
"For saying it."
"Why? I mean... it kinda seemed to me like you were talking about a specific couple of people--"
"I was," she sighed, "and that's why I shouldn't have said anything."
Ryan opened his mouth, prepared to just dive right in to the long-overdue conversation, but... the gentleness in her eyes halted him a moment, and he was transfixed. Everything between them, every feeling needing to be expressed, every word needing to be said... it was in her eyes. In a hushed tone, he asked, "You were talking about us, weren't you?"
Kirsten nodded slowly, holding his gaze. "Yeah," she whispered back.
He looked back and forth between her eyes, unable to tear himself away, and with one arm still around her, he touched her face with his free hand. "You're not the only one that feels the chemistry."
She smiled and flicked her gaze toward his lips for a split-second. "I didn't think I was, but I didn't want to assume."
His smile brightened a little and his thumb stroked feather-lightly over her bottom lip. "It does feel a lot like home, huh?"
Kirsten's smile was darling and she touched his wrist as he cupped her face. "Yeah, it does."
Their foreheads met as if by pure magnetism, and he heard Kirsten suck in her breath, one finger tracing gingerly down his jawline. Her breath puffed against his lips, and Ryan was positive he might have been close to passing out. "So..." he murmured.
He watched as Kirsten's eyes slid shut. "So..."
"So what do we do now?"
Kirsten pulled back only far enough to search his eyes, her hand slipping around to the back of his neck. Her gaze drifted to his lips as she murmured back, "We turn out the light..." and looked up, smiling into his eyes. "And listen to the storm."
Ryan smiled back, wanting more than anything to lean in and kiss her. But he would not jump the gun. So, he released her and reached over, turning off the light by his bedside. Kirsten flopped back against the pillows and he laughed, assailed with memories of the week before. He flopped back beside her, reaching for her hand, and swiveled his head on the pillow to look at her. Her smirk was evident in the moonlight and he enjoyed the shape of the shadows cast upon her by the moonlight hitting the rain against the windows.
Then, the smirk became too irresistible. Ryan rolled onto his side just as he had a week before... only this time instead of pressing his hand into the mattress beside her, he curled it around her waist and leaned over her while she reached up to guide his face to hers. Their lips touched briefly and they pulled away to look at each other while lightning illuminated the room... much different from the lightning striking them both from head to toe.
Kirsten's hand on his face guided him to her once again, and their lips touched tenderly, making a smooching sound when he pulled back. He searched her eyes and took in the smile on her face before he leaned in one final time, covering her lips with his. Kirsten seemed to pull him closer, until he was half lying over her, his hand slipping beneath the material of the beater she wore to feel the curve of her waist.
When Kirsten gasped and arched into him, Ryan took that as permission to slide the beater further up her body, until it was bunched just under her breasts, stomach exposed. He broke from the kiss and stared down at her, searching her eyes... almost waiting for her to stop him, though he knew in his heart she wouldn't. He glided his palm across her stomach gently, barely touching, and loved the feel of goosebumps peppering her flesh as he went.
Kirsten pulled him down for another kiss just as he pulled her up, lips breaking from hers only long enough for him to pull the beater over her head. Then their lips collided again and he guided her gently back against the pillows, dropping the beater to the floor. As they kissed, his hand roamed over her shoulders, across her collarbone and over her torso, fondling and caressing the perfect mounds of flesh while she whimpered her pleasure into their kiss.
Ryan shifted slightly and broke from the kiss, still propped on one elbow as his hand slid down her torso, down the concave slope of her abdomen to the waistband of the sweatpants. His fingers worked the knot loose and he slipped his hand beneath the material, sliding it over her hips. When Kirsten squirmed against him and lifted her hips, Ryan kissed her, chuckling against her impatient lips, and worked the sweatpants down over her hips, down her thighs and her legs until they hit the floor.
Then he pulled back; stared at her and took in the enormity of what was happening. Kirsten, who had only moments before stolen his breath with the way his clothes fit her... was now gloriously naked beneath him. His heart was thundering in his ears, as was the real thunder, and the din of the storm drowned out any protests from his conscience as Ryan stripped his own clothes away. He kissed her deeply as he covered her body with his, and held himself up with hands pushed into the mattress as he pulled away to look at her.
Words were not needed; a conversation was held between their eyes and they understood each other completely -- chemistry in its purest form, however inconvenient and "unwanted." They were on the exact same page, no question, and Ryan leaned down to kiss Kirsten gently as he pushed inside her.
Kirsten's moan was swallowed by the loud clap of thunder, and Ryan watched in lovestruck awe as her head lolled back and her body arched up into him. He took his time, listened to the rain as he concentrated on the feel of loving Kirsten. She surrounded him completely -- physically, mentally, emotionally. He'd never felt so deeply connected with anyone in his life. After years of scratching around for something to believe in... here it was. Him and Kirsten; the chemistry that could not be suppressed, denied, or ignored.
Kirsten gasped, and his name escaped her in a whisper. Ryan shuddered at the sound and covered her neck with kisses, straining to keep up the slow pace though his body was begging him to go faster. It was almost a blessing when Kirsten whimpered, "Please."
Ryan groaned gratefully and increased his tempo, his breath coming out in short puffs while lightning flashed around them. He leaned down to kiss his desire while her hands snaked under his arms and up his back, clasping his shoulders and bringing him closer. She moaned his name into his mouth one last time before they fell over the edge together, thunder rattling the windows of the poolhouse. When the flood of passion had subsided, Ryan slumped against Kirsten and pressed kisses to the hollow of her shoulder. "Well..." he panted. "I think my like of storms has turned to love. I think I'm in love with storms now."
He pulled back to see Kirsten's brilliant smile lighting the darkness. "I think I'm in love with them, too."
*****
The next morning when Ryan awoke, blissfully exhausted from a long night of... listening to the storm... he looked outside to find brilliant sunshine smiling in at him, beckoning him out of bed. He sat up slowly and caught sight of the spare pair of sweatpants and the beater laying on the floor at the foot of his bed, and he smiled, pulling on both items and chuckling softly when he had to unroll the cuffs of the sweatpants.
He stood up and stretched, his muscles protesting in the best way, and for the first time he smiled -- brightly -- all by himself, admiring how the trees and grass seemed almost more green now than before. Parts of the cement were still darkened with dampness, leftover from the storm, but the air smelled fresh... clean; like new beginnings.
Ryan opened the door and padded barefoot across the patio, toward the kitchen. The moment he opened the kitchen door, he was greeted jovially by Sandy, and was sent a discreet, coy smile by Kirsten. He smiled back and joined her at the coffee pot, smile turning to a grin when she nudged an already-filled cup of black coffee toward him. "Thanks."
She just smiled, eyes twinkling devilishly at him over her coffee mug, and they were distracted from their silent flirtation only briefly by Sandy's voice.
He tsked and shook his head, looking down at the weather section of the morning newspaper. "Jeez, it's supposed to storm again tonight."
"Good," Kirsten smiled, meeting Ryan's eyes again. "I love storms."
Ryan held her gaze, and in her eyes he saw his something to believe in. "Me too."
FIN
{x-posted to rystenlove}
FANDOM: The OC
PAIRING: Ryan/Kirsten
SPOILERS: Season four
RATING: R
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Pseudo-inspired by Aqualung's "Something To Believe In"
SUMMARY:
*****
The rain woke Ryan before the thunder did. It wasn't often one heard the din of pouring rain in Southern California. He propped himself up on his elbows and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, staring out the doors beyond the foot of his bed. It was still late... or early, he wasn't sure which, and was too lazy to look behind him at the clock.
A light to his left drew his attention, and through the blur of the downpour he saw a distinctly feminine figure moving around the kitchen -- Kirsten. Ryan let out his breath, the mere thought of her, of her name, sending his pulse into overdrive. She'd unknowingly laid claim over his heart his first few days in Newport, and his infatuation with her had grown steadily day-by-day. Now, it was almost four years later and he could safely admit to himself (nobody else) that he was in love with Kirsten.
He saw things in her, knew things about her, that nobody else saw or knew. With just one look into her eyes he could read her thoughts verbatim, as if they were his own. He offered her silent strength and support when he saw her world crumbling around her, and drew the same strength from her when it was he that was weakened. Her pain became his pain; her laughter made him laugh. Four years was all it took for Kirsten to become everything to him.
And she'd been there for him through it all; he could say the same of no one else. Sandy was always off trying to save the world, Seth was too consumed with his own problems (more often than not, relating to Summer), and Marissa... well, Marissa had often-times been the source of Ryan's problems. And she had been his most recent one. Her death had taken a toll on him, made him feel guilty as if he could have done something more to prevent what had happened to her.
And while Sandy and Seth suggested he go see a therapist, talk to somebody, come home and sort out his problems without letting them consume him... Kirsten had just silently been there for him. She didn't offer advice, she didn't pester him about coming home when he had been away. She just often left messages on his voicemail to tell him how much she missed him, that she loved him, and that she would be there when he was ready to open up. That had meant more to him than he could have found words to express.
Ryan snapped back to the present when he saw the blur of Kirsten's svelte figure move to the door, and he wondered if she could sense that he, too, was awake. He reached over and turned on the lamp near his bed -- what he hoped would be a silent beacon -- then just sat waiting with his feet on the floor and his knees bent, arms draped over them. He smiled when he saw the door open... saw her moving quickly across the patio, up the steps and toward his door. He jumped up to meet her, and pulled the door open for her.
Instead of the surprise he thought he'd see on her face, he was rewarded with a bright smile, as if she'd been expecting him to be there for her. "Hi, you're up too?" She was alert for it being so late (or early -- where was his clock?), eyes alight and hands smoothing out the rain drops that had dampened her hair.
Ryan smiled and nodded, "Yeah," and grasped her forearm to gently tug her inside, shutting them away in the poolhouse together.
The giggle she gave as she continued her attempts to smooth out her long, dampened locks speared Ryan's heart and pushed it straight up into his throat. "It's really coming down out there," she stated, a bit redundantly but Ryan enjoyed the sound of her voice nonetheless.
"Looks like it." Without thinking, his hand went to her hair, combing through it effortlessly as he tried not to pay attention to her (very, very) wet pajamas. "You want a towel or something?"
"Sure." Ryan, so busy watching his fingers in her hair, completely missed the quaver in her tone and the way her eyes were cemented to him. "Thank you."
He disappeared into the bathroom for only a moment and emerged with a small towel, giving Kirsten a flirtatious smile as he tossed the towel onto her head. She giggled girlishly and thanked him again, patting her hair dry. Moments like these -- fun, easy, with just a hint of underlying flirtation and subtext -- were becoming more and more frequent these days. Ryan had a different work schedule than Sandy and Seth often did, and Kirsten set her own hours working from home, so since he'd been back they had been spending ample amounts of time together.
Sometimes they would do their own things, but together; Kirsten would sit on the couch and flip through binders from her dating service business, looking for candidates to set up with Newport's needy bachelorettes while Ryan would sit beside her, flipping through the channels on satellite, each enjoying the comfortable silence and each other's presence. Other times they would work together in the yard; and a few times Kirsten had read a book in the hot tub while Ryan swam laps in the pool. It was easy, it was comfortable... but at the same time, it was becoming unbearable.
Kirsten was well aware of Ryan's feelings for her; he knew just from looking into her eyes. That was one of the plusses of being able to read her so easily. And she hadn't once given him any indication that his feelings disgusted her or made her uncomfortable... so Ryan had taken that to mean that she possibly felt the same.
A week ago he had very nearly found out for certain. They'd been in the poolhouse, chatting (about what, it was hard to remember now), and they were sitting side-by-side on Ryan's bed. He had exhaustedly flopped backward, against the pillows and Kirsten had followed suit, both of them staring up at the ceiling fan while laying side-by-side, fused together from shoulder to hip. Kirsten had started talking out her frustrations with her dating service business, and had made some mention of chemistry -- how hard it was to set people up on dates for a living because of the unpredictability of chemistry.
Ryan had rolled onto his side to give her his full attention, propping himself up on his left elbow and leaning his head on his hand. Kirsten had gone on, meeting his eyes as she mentioned that sometimes chemistry could be found in unexpected or sometimes unwanted places. Ryan, his heart having skipped with the comment, asked her what she had meant by unwanted. He still remembered her response verbatim...
"Well, let's say that someone who's happily married and has been for years, one day meets someone out of the blue and something just... clicks. You know? Like maybe when they're introduced, their eyes meet and right away there's this overwhelming tension, this spark, like a switch has been flipped somewhere. And even though they may be completely wrong for each other on paper, and could never actually be together, there's something about it that just... works. It fits. Maybe it almost feels like home."
And as she had performed this soliloquoy of sorts, she'd scooted marginally closer to him, until he was practically hovering over her. She had been close enough that he could've slipped his hand completely around her slender waist.
"Home, huh?" he'd repeated.
"Yeah." She'd cleared her throat and back-tracked, "But th-that's what I kind of meant by unwanted chemistry. It's so unpredictable; you never know how two people are going to fit together until they... are together."
Ryan remembered the charge in the air (downright electric in nature) that day. He remembered the way she had sucked in a breath when he pressed his hand into the mattress for balance, just on the other side of her waist, as they stared into each other's eyes. He remembered the way her eyes drifted to his lips, and how he had scooted just a little bit closer to her. They had been so close to kissing... and would have if Kirsten's phone ringing hadn't startled them apart. It had been Julie, having a crisis with another built-in wall unit at the Roberts house, so Kirsten had had to run off and leave Ryan to battle his conscience.
He snapped back to the present, realizing Kirsten was looking expectantly at him with raised eyebrows. "Here, let me get you a change of clothes, Kirsten."
"Actually, do you have a robe?" Kirsten shivered and hugged herself around the middle. "I'm in need of something big and fluffy."
Ryan chuckled and averted his eyes to his spare clothes, wondering just how well she'd take it if he told her he'd be more than willing to warm her up. "I'm... not really a robe guy. But I've got sweatpants and stuff."
She grinned. "That works for me."
He handed her a spare set of sweatpants and one of his beaters, which she accepted with a smile, and went into the bathroom to change. Ryan exhaled heavily and looked around the room, his heart beating an odd rhythm at the thought that his clothes were going to be against her skin. Her scent would be on them, and his scent would be on her. There was something fulfilling and primal and... amazing about that.
When Kirsten emerged from the bathroom, Ryan fought not to let his breath catch in his throat. No other woman had ever looked as spectacular in his things as Kirsten did. He remembered when Marissa would sometimes wear his tee shirts or his sweatshirts. The clothes would hang off her bony frame and always made her look like she was drowning in the fabric. Kirsten looked... stunning.
She, too, was swimming in his clothes, but was far from drowning. The pants seemed to hang just right off her slender body, and the beater clung to her curves in a way that made his heart hammer in his chest. She had rolled up the cuffs of his sweatpants, which he smiled at. He looked up when he heard Kirsten's knowing chuckle.
"Yes, I know I look like a big dweeb, but at least I'm dry now."
He laughed, unable to help the face-splitting grin. "No, I was just thinking you look much, much cuter in my clothes than I do."
The smile he got from Kirsten was slightly open-mouthed, as if she was a little shocked by the compliment. Then, after a minute, she said softly, "Thanks."
Ryan nodded, averting his eyes so he wouldn't blush, and sat down at the foot of his bed. He bent his knees and draped his arms over them again, his right hand clasping his left wrist as he stared out at the storm. It wasn't long before he felt the mattress dip, felt Kirsten's right side connecting with his left... felt her looking over at him.
"You like storms, too?" she asked, as if picking up a conversation from somewhere in the middle.
Ryan smiled. "Yeah. I mean, I was scared of 'em when I was a kid, but now they're pretty cool. Kind of peaceful, in a weird way."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." She leaned her head on his shoulder, her long blonde hair falling over his arm, tickling the bare skin. She curled one hand around his arm. "Kinda like everything's getting washed away. Starting fresh."
Ryan exhaled his smile and looked down at her, his lips just millimeters from touching her forehead. He leaned his head on hers and moved his arm to take her hand. Immediately, their fingers laced together as if familiar with the gesture of affection -- Ryan's heart jolted in his chest with the realization: it was like they'd been dating for years.
They drifted into a comfortable, almost soothing silence. Ryan was certain he could've fallen asleep. Then he heard Kirsten's voice... low, sleepy... almost sexy. "What's your favorite part about a storm?"
"This," he smiled, and squeezed her hand. When he felt her tense slightly, he made sure to add, "Listening to the sounds of the storm."
"Hmmm," she hummed, and Ryan was pleased when she sunk against him again. "Me too." She sighed, and after a moment she asked him randomly, "Has anyone ever told you you make a very good pillow?"
"I do, huh?" He released her hand and, when she looked up at him in surprise, he smiled reassuringly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close again. "Well, good. I'm glad you're comfortable."
"Comfortable?" she balked, "I could fall asleep on you right now."
He chuckled. "Likewise."
"Ryan... what I said last week... about chemistry?"
Now it was his turn to tense a bit. "Uh, yeah?"
She lifted her head from his shoulder and his arm slipped down to her back, hand curving around her waist. "I'm sorry."
He searched her eyes. "For what?"
"For saying it."
"Why? I mean... it kinda seemed to me like you were talking about a specific couple of people--"
"I was," she sighed, "and that's why I shouldn't have said anything."
Ryan opened his mouth, prepared to just dive right in to the long-overdue conversation, but... the gentleness in her eyes halted him a moment, and he was transfixed. Everything between them, every feeling needing to be expressed, every word needing to be said... it was in her eyes. In a hushed tone, he asked, "You were talking about us, weren't you?"
Kirsten nodded slowly, holding his gaze. "Yeah," she whispered back.
He looked back and forth between her eyes, unable to tear himself away, and with one arm still around her, he touched her face with his free hand. "You're not the only one that feels the chemistry."
She smiled and flicked her gaze toward his lips for a split-second. "I didn't think I was, but I didn't want to assume."
His smile brightened a little and his thumb stroked feather-lightly over her bottom lip. "It does feel a lot like home, huh?"
Kirsten's smile was darling and she touched his wrist as he cupped her face. "Yeah, it does."
Their foreheads met as if by pure magnetism, and he heard Kirsten suck in her breath, one finger tracing gingerly down his jawline. Her breath puffed against his lips, and Ryan was positive he might have been close to passing out. "So..." he murmured.
He watched as Kirsten's eyes slid shut. "So..."
"So what do we do now?"
Kirsten pulled back only far enough to search his eyes, her hand slipping around to the back of his neck. Her gaze drifted to his lips as she murmured back, "We turn out the light..." and looked up, smiling into his eyes. "And listen to the storm."
Ryan smiled back, wanting more than anything to lean in and kiss her. But he would not jump the gun. So, he released her and reached over, turning off the light by his bedside. Kirsten flopped back against the pillows and he laughed, assailed with memories of the week before. He flopped back beside her, reaching for her hand, and swiveled his head on the pillow to look at her. Her smirk was evident in the moonlight and he enjoyed the shape of the shadows cast upon her by the moonlight hitting the rain against the windows.
Then, the smirk became too irresistible. Ryan rolled onto his side just as he had a week before... only this time instead of pressing his hand into the mattress beside her, he curled it around her waist and leaned over her while she reached up to guide his face to hers. Their lips touched briefly and they pulled away to look at each other while lightning illuminated the room... much different from the lightning striking them both from head to toe.
Kirsten's hand on his face guided him to her once again, and their lips touched tenderly, making a smooching sound when he pulled back. He searched her eyes and took in the smile on her face before he leaned in one final time, covering her lips with his. Kirsten seemed to pull him closer, until he was half lying over her, his hand slipping beneath the material of the beater she wore to feel the curve of her waist.
When Kirsten gasped and arched into him, Ryan took that as permission to slide the beater further up her body, until it was bunched just under her breasts, stomach exposed. He broke from the kiss and stared down at her, searching her eyes... almost waiting for her to stop him, though he knew in his heart she wouldn't. He glided his palm across her stomach gently, barely touching, and loved the feel of goosebumps peppering her flesh as he went.
Kirsten pulled him down for another kiss just as he pulled her up, lips breaking from hers only long enough for him to pull the beater over her head. Then their lips collided again and he guided her gently back against the pillows, dropping the beater to the floor. As they kissed, his hand roamed over her shoulders, across her collarbone and over her torso, fondling and caressing the perfect mounds of flesh while she whimpered her pleasure into their kiss.
Ryan shifted slightly and broke from the kiss, still propped on one elbow as his hand slid down her torso, down the concave slope of her abdomen to the waistband of the sweatpants. His fingers worked the knot loose and he slipped his hand beneath the material, sliding it over her hips. When Kirsten squirmed against him and lifted her hips, Ryan kissed her, chuckling against her impatient lips, and worked the sweatpants down over her hips, down her thighs and her legs until they hit the floor.
Then he pulled back; stared at her and took in the enormity of what was happening. Kirsten, who had only moments before stolen his breath with the way his clothes fit her... was now gloriously naked beneath him. His heart was thundering in his ears, as was the real thunder, and the din of the storm drowned out any protests from his conscience as Ryan stripped his own clothes away. He kissed her deeply as he covered her body with his, and held himself up with hands pushed into the mattress as he pulled away to look at her.
Words were not needed; a conversation was held between their eyes and they understood each other completely -- chemistry in its purest form, however inconvenient and "unwanted." They were on the exact same page, no question, and Ryan leaned down to kiss Kirsten gently as he pushed inside her.
Kirsten's moan was swallowed by the loud clap of thunder, and Ryan watched in lovestruck awe as her head lolled back and her body arched up into him. He took his time, listened to the rain as he concentrated on the feel of loving Kirsten. She surrounded him completely -- physically, mentally, emotionally. He'd never felt so deeply connected with anyone in his life. After years of scratching around for something to believe in... here it was. Him and Kirsten; the chemistry that could not be suppressed, denied, or ignored.
Kirsten gasped, and his name escaped her in a whisper. Ryan shuddered at the sound and covered her neck with kisses, straining to keep up the slow pace though his body was begging him to go faster. It was almost a blessing when Kirsten whimpered, "Please."
Ryan groaned gratefully and increased his tempo, his breath coming out in short puffs while lightning flashed around them. He leaned down to kiss his desire while her hands snaked under his arms and up his back, clasping his shoulders and bringing him closer. She moaned his name into his mouth one last time before they fell over the edge together, thunder rattling the windows of the poolhouse. When the flood of passion had subsided, Ryan slumped against Kirsten and pressed kisses to the hollow of her shoulder. "Well..." he panted. "I think my like of storms has turned to love. I think I'm in love with storms now."
He pulled back to see Kirsten's brilliant smile lighting the darkness. "I think I'm in love with them, too."
*****
The next morning when Ryan awoke, blissfully exhausted from a long night of... listening to the storm... he looked outside to find brilliant sunshine smiling in at him, beckoning him out of bed. He sat up slowly and caught sight of the spare pair of sweatpants and the beater laying on the floor at the foot of his bed, and he smiled, pulling on both items and chuckling softly when he had to unroll the cuffs of the sweatpants.
He stood up and stretched, his muscles protesting in the best way, and for the first time he smiled -- brightly -- all by himself, admiring how the trees and grass seemed almost more green now than before. Parts of the cement were still darkened with dampness, leftover from the storm, but the air smelled fresh... clean; like new beginnings.
Ryan opened the door and padded barefoot across the patio, toward the kitchen. The moment he opened the kitchen door, he was greeted jovially by Sandy, and was sent a discreet, coy smile by Kirsten. He smiled back and joined her at the coffee pot, smile turning to a grin when she nudged an already-filled cup of black coffee toward him. "Thanks."
She just smiled, eyes twinkling devilishly at him over her coffee mug, and they were distracted from their silent flirtation only briefly by Sandy's voice.
He tsked and shook his head, looking down at the weather section of the morning newspaper. "Jeez, it's supposed to storm again tonight."
"Good," Kirsten smiled, meeting Ryan's eyes again. "I love storms."
Ryan held her gaze, and in her eyes he saw his something to believe in. "Me too."
FIN
{x-posted to rystenlove}