Title: Blind Man's Bluff
Author: Angelus
E-mail: angelus1317@hotmail.com (Please put "Blind Man's Bluff" on the subject line.)
Subject: The O.C.
Category: SSR
Rating: G
Summary: Seth and Summer taking two steps forward, zero steps back.
Spoilers: None.
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Seth, Summer, Ryan, Marissa, etc. are all property of Fox television, College Hill Pictures, Josh Schwartz, etc. Sadly, the only thing benefitting from this is my brain in creating more Adam Brody fantasies.
Author's notes: My very first O.C. fanfic, and a damn good attempt, if I do say so myself. It's like a fresh start for me - O.C. has pulled me out of my Spuffy rut. Although not a bad rut to be in, my stories were starting to suck. So now, I have this to occupy my fanfic-writing time. Yay!
Dedication: To Nikki. Damn you, you've done it again!
~*~
Summer was cold.
Seth realized that, taken quite literally, that sentence was a bit oxymoronish. But it was true. She was sitting right next to him on the couch in her tiny little pink tank top, practically shivering. And although the resulting hardening of certain parts of her anatomy was quite pleasant to see, her arms were now crossed over her chest, blocking his view, so she was just sitting there freezing. And, being himself, he couldn't bear to see her suffer.
For about five minutes, he wrestled with his conscience. He was supposed to be the gentleman here. But when he tried to be nice to Summer, it usually backfired. Then again, she had come, hadn't she?
They'd been in a weird place these last few weeks. They weren't quite friends, they weren't quite enemies. They said 'hi' every once and awhile at school, she ate lunch with him, Ryan, and Marissa, they hung out outside of school; sometimes with other people, quite often just the two of them. There had even been stolen kisses here and there. Long, hot kisses in the poolhouse, in the car, in his bed...nine of them to date. Not that Seth was keeping track or anything.
The feeling he was getting right now, deciding whether to be nice to Summer or let her have a taste of her own medicine, was a familiar one. This was the game they always played - pretending they didn't want each other, didn't care.
As she rubbed her tiny little hands up and down her goose-pimpled arms, Seth sighed.
"C'mere," he said. She turned to look at him.
"What do you mean?" she asked. This was part of the game, too - playing dumb to whatever it was going on between them. But even with all the denial in the world, there was still something there.
"You're cold," he said.
"No, I'm not," she protested. Rolling his eyes, Seth reached over to take her by the waist and gather her against him. Summer struggled, albeit weakly.
"Eww, Cohen, quit manhandling me," she shrieked. Seth wrapped his arms around her.
"You're not cold anymore, are you?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. Peeking over her shoulder, she smiled at him, and that smile seemed to light up the dark poolhouse.
Seth could feel the tension slowly drain out of the slight form cradled in his arms as he held her against him. Sometimes, amidst all the bickering and the bitching, he forgot why it was he was so crazy about Summer Roberts. But then came times like these, and he remembered exactly why.
It was because she tried so hard every day to play the bitchy popular girl. The snobby little rich girl who didn't give a damn about anything or anyone but herself. She tried to seem bubbly and airheaded and callous. Exactly the type Seth would usually be turned off by. But, sometimes without even realizing it, she let him see past that. She let him see the real Summer Roberts. The kind, unselfless, vulnerable Summer Roberts. And when she knowingly opened herself up, it just blew his mind that she would choose *him* to talk to, to share with.
And for that, he didn't know if he would ever be able to stop loving her.
The only problem was, Seth wasn't always so great at communicating with women, much less Summer. She could - and had - make him feel like dirt beneath her shoe. Or she could make him feel like he was flying. The only thing was, he never knew what he was going to get. One day she was calling him a comic book geek, trailing after her Abercrombie-wearing friends, and the next, they were sneaking off to make out in the third floor broom closet. Trying to understand Summer was like being stuck in a room full of landmines with a blindfold on. If he made even the slightest wrong move, he would be gone for good. That was why he always hesitated when they played their little games. What if he ignored her one day and she decided to move on? What if he said something and she didn't realize it was a joke?
Their relationship was going somewhere. Where exactly it was going, he wasn't quite sure. But as long as she was leading, he would follow.
Seth grabbed the remote and flipped off the TV as he lay back on the couch, pulling Summer with him. He reached over to the bed and grabbed a blanket, spreading it over them both.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked snarkily.
"Sleeping with you," Seth replied. He tightened his grip on her waist, settling in beneath the covers until he was spooning her from behind.
"Cute, Cohen," she said. "Now let me go."
"No."
"Cohen..."
"Go to sleep, Summer."
"But my mom..."
"Probably thinks you're at Marissa's house."
"I - "
"Do you have to make *everything* so difficult?" Seth asked. And she didn't answer, because everyone on the earth knew it was the truth. "Go to sleep, Summer," he said again. And this time, through some miracle of god, she did. Not that she would ever admit it in public, but here in Seth Cohen's arms, she felt safe. Protected. Special. Loved. He felt her relax against him, her breathing easy and slow, on the edge of sleep and falling fast.
"Goodnight, Summer," he murmured into her hair as he snuggled close.
He was never very good at those games of theirs, anyway.
Author: Angelus
E-mail: angelus1317@hotmail.com (Please put "Blind Man's Bluff" on the subject line.)
Subject: The O.C.
Category: SSR
Rating: G
Summary: Seth and Summer taking two steps forward, zero steps back.
Spoilers: None.
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Seth, Summer, Ryan, Marissa, etc. are all property of Fox television, College Hill Pictures, Josh Schwartz, etc. Sadly, the only thing benefitting from this is my brain in creating more Adam Brody fantasies.
Author's notes: My very first O.C. fanfic, and a damn good attempt, if I do say so myself. It's like a fresh start for me - O.C. has pulled me out of my Spuffy rut. Although not a bad rut to be in, my stories were starting to suck. So now, I have this to occupy my fanfic-writing time. Yay!
Dedication: To Nikki. Damn you, you've done it again!
~*~
Summer was cold.
Seth realized that, taken quite literally, that sentence was a bit oxymoronish. But it was true. She was sitting right next to him on the couch in her tiny little pink tank top, practically shivering. And although the resulting hardening of certain parts of her anatomy was quite pleasant to see, her arms were now crossed over her chest, blocking his view, so she was just sitting there freezing. And, being himself, he couldn't bear to see her suffer.
For about five minutes, he wrestled with his conscience. He was supposed to be the gentleman here. But when he tried to be nice to Summer, it usually backfired. Then again, she had come, hadn't she?
They'd been in a weird place these last few weeks. They weren't quite friends, they weren't quite enemies. They said 'hi' every once and awhile at school, she ate lunch with him, Ryan, and Marissa, they hung out outside of school; sometimes with other people, quite often just the two of them. There had even been stolen kisses here and there. Long, hot kisses in the poolhouse, in the car, in his bed...nine of them to date. Not that Seth was keeping track or anything.
The feeling he was getting right now, deciding whether to be nice to Summer or let her have a taste of her own medicine, was a familiar one. This was the game they always played - pretending they didn't want each other, didn't care.
As she rubbed her tiny little hands up and down her goose-pimpled arms, Seth sighed.
"C'mere," he said. She turned to look at him.
"What do you mean?" she asked. This was part of the game, too - playing dumb to whatever it was going on between them. But even with all the denial in the world, there was still something there.
"You're cold," he said.
"No, I'm not," she protested. Rolling his eyes, Seth reached over to take her by the waist and gather her against him. Summer struggled, albeit weakly.
"Eww, Cohen, quit manhandling me," she shrieked. Seth wrapped his arms around her.
"You're not cold anymore, are you?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. Peeking over her shoulder, she smiled at him, and that smile seemed to light up the dark poolhouse.
Seth could feel the tension slowly drain out of the slight form cradled in his arms as he held her against him. Sometimes, amidst all the bickering and the bitching, he forgot why it was he was so crazy about Summer Roberts. But then came times like these, and he remembered exactly why.
It was because she tried so hard every day to play the bitchy popular girl. The snobby little rich girl who didn't give a damn about anything or anyone but herself. She tried to seem bubbly and airheaded and callous. Exactly the type Seth would usually be turned off by. But, sometimes without even realizing it, she let him see past that. She let him see the real Summer Roberts. The kind, unselfless, vulnerable Summer Roberts. And when she knowingly opened herself up, it just blew his mind that she would choose *him* to talk to, to share with.
And for that, he didn't know if he would ever be able to stop loving her.
The only problem was, Seth wasn't always so great at communicating with women, much less Summer. She could - and had - make him feel like dirt beneath her shoe. Or she could make him feel like he was flying. The only thing was, he never knew what he was going to get. One day she was calling him a comic book geek, trailing after her Abercrombie-wearing friends, and the next, they were sneaking off to make out in the third floor broom closet. Trying to understand Summer was like being stuck in a room full of landmines with a blindfold on. If he made even the slightest wrong move, he would be gone for good. That was why he always hesitated when they played their little games. What if he ignored her one day and she decided to move on? What if he said something and she didn't realize it was a joke?
Their relationship was going somewhere. Where exactly it was going, he wasn't quite sure. But as long as she was leading, he would follow.
Seth grabbed the remote and flipped off the TV as he lay back on the couch, pulling Summer with him. He reached over to the bed and grabbed a blanket, spreading it over them both.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked snarkily.
"Sleeping with you," Seth replied. He tightened his grip on her waist, settling in beneath the covers until he was spooning her from behind.
"Cute, Cohen," she said. "Now let me go."
"No."
"Cohen..."
"Go to sleep, Summer."
"But my mom..."
"Probably thinks you're at Marissa's house."
"I - "
"Do you have to make *everything* so difficult?" Seth asked. And she didn't answer, because everyone on the earth knew it was the truth. "Go to sleep, Summer," he said again. And this time, through some miracle of god, she did. Not that she would ever admit it in public, but here in Seth Cohen's arms, she felt safe. Protected. Special. Loved. He felt her relax against him, her breathing easy and slow, on the edge of sleep and falling fast.
"Goodnight, Summer," he murmured into her hair as he snuggled close.
He was never very good at those games of theirs, anyway.