I’ma kill you and them loud ass motherfuckin’ barking dogs
Word of the Day: atrabilious \at-ruh-BIL-yuhs\, adjective:
1. Melancholic; gloomy.
2. Irritable; ill-natured; peevish.
*laughs*
The O.C.
Random Acts of Violence and Kindness
The problem with being Seth, Seth has found, is that people expect certain things from him that he doesn’t tend to expect from himself, like orderliness.
For example, Seth doesn’t have one kind of dirty clothing, but several different grades, which he keeps piled on the floor of his bedroom. The piles all depend on who’s seen him in what and how much the armpits of his shirts smell when he wants to wear them. Rosa doesn’t understand Seth’s system though. She tends to fuss at him whenever she comes in his room to clean, and then she ruins his system, and he has to start all over again.
Seth also doesn’t tend to put his graphic novels on bookshelves, because then they’re not next to his bed when he wants to read them. He does make sure to put all his comics in sleeves, because otherwise people put their fingers all over them and that decreases their value. It’s one thing for Seth to put his grubby fingers all over the latest copy of Top Ten, it’s something else entirely for his dad to do the same thing.
There are certain rules that Seth lives by that most other people just don’t get, so when those two worlds collide, bad things tend to happen. Like his mom putting all his issues of Azrael on the top shelf of the bookcase, and Seth not being able to reach them. Like Seth ill-advisedly trying to use his skateboard as a footstool and then eating carpet when Ryan magically appears and spooks him.
Only Seth would end up with books, Windows XP guides and wrinkled copies of 1602 landing on his head and giving him a mild concussion. He won’t say anything about his skateboard shooting out from under his foot and marking the wall. At least Seth hopes it’s a mark, because a dent would up his situation from a Very Bad Thing to a Very Grounded Thing. Seth can still be philosophical while laying on his back under a mountain of books. He’s got skills like that. He is smooth. He is not wired like junkie, because Ryan is standing over him and either looking concerned or amused. Seth isn’t sure. It might be both.
He pushes himself to his elbows slowly, a copy of MS Outlook sliding down on his stomach and falling on the floor.
“Seth, are you - can you - What were you doing?” Ryan’s doing something suspiciously like hovering, and Seth will not find it cute, because… well, because. Also, it seems that Ryan is wearing a blue shirt, not the de rigueur white or gray.
Seth obviously hit his head harder than he thought. He’s hallucinating.
“You mean before or after I was attacked by Bill Gates’ paper army?”
Seth is accident-prone by nature. This doesn’t tend to bother him that much, except for when he’s around other people because other people make him nervous and then he’s twice as likely to trip over his tongue and his own feet.
At any given time his body is a motley collection of scars and bruises and other things, but he doesn’t really tend to pay attention to things like that unless he’s really forced to. Like now. *Now* Seth is paying a lot of attention. He would have to get a paper cut on his right index finger. It would have to be on his lead gaming hand. Of course.
“Are you okay?” Ryan crouches down next to Seth, and Seth winces when he aggravates a bruise he forgot he had. Eventually, his attention is drawn back to Ryan though, because that's what seems to happen to Seth when Ryan is in the room.
Ryan’s shirt really is blue. It matches his eyes, and Seth’s train of though proves that he’s concussed. He has to be. Maybe they should call the doctor before he starts admiring Ryan’s sartorial choices out loud.
“The word ‘ow’ does not begin to describe the pain I’m in right now,” Seth says, attempting to talk, feel out the new dent in his head and suck on his injured finger at the same time.
Ryan blinks, and it’s not Seth’s imagination that Ryan’s breathing seems a bit erratic. He’s staring at Seth very hard. “Is it bleeding?”
Seth pulls his finger out his mouth with an audible ‘pop’. “No, but it hurts.”
Ryan’s eyes follow Seth’s wet finger before he turns back to Seth, and Seth’s stomach does a strange Tony Hawk move. What’s so interesting about a finger he was sucking… Ah. But no. No, because Ryan likes Marissa, and he’s never given Seth the slightest hint that he might like Seth like that. Not that Seth really cares about hints or anything. He’s all about being obvious.
Seth pushes himself up to a sitting position. His head is throbbing. He must be traumatized.
Ryan is straight; Seth is kind of straight. He likes sucking on things though.
“It’s a paper cut, Seth,” Ryan says pointedly. “It’s going to hurt.”
“Do not mock me unless you’re going to kiss it and make it better.”
The words pop out before Seth can catch them, and by the time he closes his mouth it’s too late. The silence echoes in his ears as Ryan stares at him. Well, he really messed that one up. Now he’ll have to cry ‘concussion.’
The words are on the tip of his tongue when Ryan speaks up. “I’ll make you a deal: How about I kiss you, and get your finger a Band-Aid?”
Seth blinks, but Ryan is still there. Still crouched next to Seth in that really nice blue shirt that matches his eyes. Seth should say something about that. “Yeah, you know, I think that’s a much better suggestion. In fact, that’s such a good suggestion that I’m wondering what you could do about this bruise on my elbow, and I have a cut on my knee.”
Seth scoots closer to Ryan and begins to pull up the left leg of his jeans as evidence. He halts his motions when Ryan stands up and offers him a hand up.
Ryan’s hand is dry and warm in Seth’s grasp.
“One injury at a time,” he says pulling Seth to his feet.
Ryan doesn’t let go of Seth’s hand, but Seth isn’t really going to point this out. Like ever. They could go around like this forever, and when his parents ask Seth will make up something about superglue or Kryptonite. He’ll think of something. It’s only a mild concussion. “It never hurts to ask, right? I mean the patient is always right.”
“That’s the customer,” Ryan corrects, leading Seth into the kitchen.
The entire time Ryan’s scrounging in the drawer by the sink he doesn’t relinquish his hold on Seth’s hand, much to Seth’s delight. Finally he pulls out a box of Superman Band-Aids with a wry expression.
“Don’t start, ” Seth warns, before going back to his preferred topic of interest. “Are you going to kiss me now?” he asks as Ryan attempts to peel a Band-Aid open with one hand.
It’s not a very successful effort, even by Seth’s standards.
Finally, he pulls the Band-Aid out of Ryan’s hand and tosses it in the sink. “Forget Superman.”
Ryan’s grin makes Seth’s knees hurt. Maybe he really does have head trauma.
“Are you sure you’re not going to bleed to death first?” Ryan asks as Seth uses his body to crowd Ryan against the counter.
“I can think of worse ways to go,” Seth admits, before closing his eyes deliberately and hoping Ryan gets the message. It’s a pretty loud and blatant message, and just when Seth’s beginning to worry that Ryan doesn’t speak his language there are long fingers tilting his head down and warm breath gusting against his cheek.
Their first kiss is unlike anything Seth has ever experienced. There are teeth and tongues, and Ryan lets go of Seth’s hand to slip his fingers into Seth’s hair. The tips of his fingers massage Seth’s scalp, and if Seth’s dying, it’s the best thing ever.
When Ryan pulls back his mouth is wet from kissing Seth, and Seth is panting like he just ran from Luke and his Neanderthals.
“Did I mention that I hit my head too?” Seth babbles. “Are you going to kiss that and make it better, too?”
Ryan’s laugh makes Seth’s stomach flip, again.
“Be nice to me, I might have a concussion,” Seth insists as he leans into Ryan, trying to coax him into kissing him again. He brushes his lips against the corner of Ryan’s mouth, waiting and hoping. When Ryan’s lips part Seth makes a strangled sound not unlike a man dying.
Their second kiss is even better than the first. Seth's not sure he'll be able to deal with things continually improving; all this good stuff might kill him, but he doesn't think he's good enough to die so young.
When they part, Seth licks his lips absently. Ryan tastes like orange soda, and his smile makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Is that nice enough for you?”
“It’s a good start.” Seth pretends to be thoughtful. “But I think you should be nice to me all the time. I think there should be a law: but you can’t be nice to anybody else. Ever,” Seth warns. “No practicing random acts of niceness for you.”
Ryan’s lips twitch. “Anything else, your highness?”
“Yeah, can you get my comic books down from the bookshelf? I’m afraid it might attack me if I try again.”
-end-
Notes: Improv provided by serialkarma: bookshelves, dust, echoes, paper cut, wired. Written for my own selfish needs, but dedicated to my girl because I feel like it.
1. Melancholic; gloomy.
2. Irritable; ill-natured; peevish.
*laughs*
The O.C.
Random Acts of Violence and Kindness
The problem with being Seth, Seth has found, is that people expect certain things from him that he doesn’t tend to expect from himself, like orderliness.
For example, Seth doesn’t have one kind of dirty clothing, but several different grades, which he keeps piled on the floor of his bedroom. The piles all depend on who’s seen him in what and how much the armpits of his shirts smell when he wants to wear them. Rosa doesn’t understand Seth’s system though. She tends to fuss at him whenever she comes in his room to clean, and then she ruins his system, and he has to start all over again.
Seth also doesn’t tend to put his graphic novels on bookshelves, because then they’re not next to his bed when he wants to read them. He does make sure to put all his comics in sleeves, because otherwise people put their fingers all over them and that decreases their value. It’s one thing for Seth to put his grubby fingers all over the latest copy of Top Ten, it’s something else entirely for his dad to do the same thing.
There are certain rules that Seth lives by that most other people just don’t get, so when those two worlds collide, bad things tend to happen. Like his mom putting all his issues of Azrael on the top shelf of the bookcase, and Seth not being able to reach them. Like Seth ill-advisedly trying to use his skateboard as a footstool and then eating carpet when Ryan magically appears and spooks him.
Only Seth would end up with books, Windows XP guides and wrinkled copies of 1602 landing on his head and giving him a mild concussion. He won’t say anything about his skateboard shooting out from under his foot and marking the wall. At least Seth hopes it’s a mark, because a dent would up his situation from a Very Bad Thing to a Very Grounded Thing. Seth can still be philosophical while laying on his back under a mountain of books. He’s got skills like that. He is smooth. He is not wired like junkie, because Ryan is standing over him and either looking concerned or amused. Seth isn’t sure. It might be both.
He pushes himself to his elbows slowly, a copy of MS Outlook sliding down on his stomach and falling on the floor.
“Seth, are you - can you - What were you doing?” Ryan’s doing something suspiciously like hovering, and Seth will not find it cute, because… well, because. Also, it seems that Ryan is wearing a blue shirt, not the de rigueur white or gray.
Seth obviously hit his head harder than he thought. He’s hallucinating.
“You mean before or after I was attacked by Bill Gates’ paper army?”
Seth is accident-prone by nature. This doesn’t tend to bother him that much, except for when he’s around other people because other people make him nervous and then he’s twice as likely to trip over his tongue and his own feet.
At any given time his body is a motley collection of scars and bruises and other things, but he doesn’t really tend to pay attention to things like that unless he’s really forced to. Like now. *Now* Seth is paying a lot of attention. He would have to get a paper cut on his right index finger. It would have to be on his lead gaming hand. Of course.
“Are you okay?” Ryan crouches down next to Seth, and Seth winces when he aggravates a bruise he forgot he had. Eventually, his attention is drawn back to Ryan though, because that's what seems to happen to Seth when Ryan is in the room.
Ryan’s shirt really is blue. It matches his eyes, and Seth’s train of though proves that he’s concussed. He has to be. Maybe they should call the doctor before he starts admiring Ryan’s sartorial choices out loud.
“The word ‘ow’ does not begin to describe the pain I’m in right now,” Seth says, attempting to talk, feel out the new dent in his head and suck on his injured finger at the same time.
Ryan blinks, and it’s not Seth’s imagination that Ryan’s breathing seems a bit erratic. He’s staring at Seth very hard. “Is it bleeding?”
Seth pulls his finger out his mouth with an audible ‘pop’. “No, but it hurts.”
Ryan’s eyes follow Seth’s wet finger before he turns back to Seth, and Seth’s stomach does a strange Tony Hawk move. What’s so interesting about a finger he was sucking… Ah. But no. No, because Ryan likes Marissa, and he’s never given Seth the slightest hint that he might like Seth like that. Not that Seth really cares about hints or anything. He’s all about being obvious.
Seth pushes himself up to a sitting position. His head is throbbing. He must be traumatized.
Ryan is straight; Seth is kind of straight. He likes sucking on things though.
“It’s a paper cut, Seth,” Ryan says pointedly. “It’s going to hurt.”
“Do not mock me unless you’re going to kiss it and make it better.”
The words pop out before Seth can catch them, and by the time he closes his mouth it’s too late. The silence echoes in his ears as Ryan stares at him. Well, he really messed that one up. Now he’ll have to cry ‘concussion.’
The words are on the tip of his tongue when Ryan speaks up. “I’ll make you a deal: How about I kiss you, and get your finger a Band-Aid?”
Seth blinks, but Ryan is still there. Still crouched next to Seth in that really nice blue shirt that matches his eyes. Seth should say something about that. “Yeah, you know, I think that’s a much better suggestion. In fact, that’s such a good suggestion that I’m wondering what you could do about this bruise on my elbow, and I have a cut on my knee.”
Seth scoots closer to Ryan and begins to pull up the left leg of his jeans as evidence. He halts his motions when Ryan stands up and offers him a hand up.
Ryan’s hand is dry and warm in Seth’s grasp.
“One injury at a time,” he says pulling Seth to his feet.
Ryan doesn’t let go of Seth’s hand, but Seth isn’t really going to point this out. Like ever. They could go around like this forever, and when his parents ask Seth will make up something about superglue or Kryptonite. He’ll think of something. It’s only a mild concussion. “It never hurts to ask, right? I mean the patient is always right.”
“That’s the customer,” Ryan corrects, leading Seth into the kitchen.
The entire time Ryan’s scrounging in the drawer by the sink he doesn’t relinquish his hold on Seth’s hand, much to Seth’s delight. Finally he pulls out a box of Superman Band-Aids with a wry expression.
“Don’t start, ” Seth warns, before going back to his preferred topic of interest. “Are you going to kiss me now?” he asks as Ryan attempts to peel a Band-Aid open with one hand.
It’s not a very successful effort, even by Seth’s standards.
Finally, he pulls the Band-Aid out of Ryan’s hand and tosses it in the sink. “Forget Superman.”
Ryan’s grin makes Seth’s knees hurt. Maybe he really does have head trauma.
“Are you sure you’re not going to bleed to death first?” Ryan asks as Seth uses his body to crowd Ryan against the counter.
“I can think of worse ways to go,” Seth admits, before closing his eyes deliberately and hoping Ryan gets the message. It’s a pretty loud and blatant message, and just when Seth’s beginning to worry that Ryan doesn’t speak his language there are long fingers tilting his head down and warm breath gusting against his cheek.
Their first kiss is unlike anything Seth has ever experienced. There are teeth and tongues, and Ryan lets go of Seth’s hand to slip his fingers into Seth’s hair. The tips of his fingers massage Seth’s scalp, and if Seth’s dying, it’s the best thing ever.
When Ryan pulls back his mouth is wet from kissing Seth, and Seth is panting like he just ran from Luke and his Neanderthals.
“Did I mention that I hit my head too?” Seth babbles. “Are you going to kiss that and make it better, too?”
Ryan’s laugh makes Seth’s stomach flip, again.
“Be nice to me, I might have a concussion,” Seth insists as he leans into Ryan, trying to coax him into kissing him again. He brushes his lips against the corner of Ryan’s mouth, waiting and hoping. When Ryan’s lips part Seth makes a strangled sound not unlike a man dying.
Their second kiss is even better than the first. Seth's not sure he'll be able to deal with things continually improving; all this good stuff might kill him, but he doesn't think he's good enough to die so young.
When they part, Seth licks his lips absently. Ryan tastes like orange soda, and his smile makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Is that nice enough for you?”
“It’s a good start.” Seth pretends to be thoughtful. “But I think you should be nice to me all the time. I think there should be a law: but you can’t be nice to anybody else. Ever,” Seth warns. “No practicing random acts of niceness for you.”
Ryan’s lips twitch. “Anything else, your highness?”
“Yeah, can you get my comic books down from the bookshelf? I’m afraid it might attack me if I try again.”
-end-
Notes: Improv provided by serialkarma: bookshelves, dust, echoes, paper cut, wired. Written for my own selfish needs, but dedicated to my girl because I feel like it.