Chapter 2

Remembering all the firsts they'd had, Seth found it hard to place which was the most important.  He knew there was an obvious choice for the award but he always hesitated to choose that one, as if everyone in the world had the same most important first in their life and he wanted his, theirs, to be more special.

He'd often asked Ryan to help him choose.

"I don't know, why?"

Ryan didn't see the importance of cataloging such esteemed events.

"I just want to know.  Which?"

Here he always sighed.  "I don't know, maybe… maybe the first day I came to your house."

"Why?"

Ryan always hated the 'why' response.  And he'd roll his eyes as he responded.  "Because if I never came, we'd never have met."

"Is that it?"

Now he'd usually put down whatever he was doing and give Seth the patented, extended stare.  Every time Seth thought he'd made him angry, and every time Ryan's voice softened even further as he responded.

"That's enough."

And it was enough, for Ryan, but Seth still needed something more, something bigger, something beyond the first night in his room, in his bed, touching, kissing… well he supposed kissing was a pretty big one, especially when he remembered it the way they'd done it.

Lips—so simple, so common, so used in the daily grind of existence; when Seth tried to think of where his life would be without the effect Ryan's lips had made on his world, he always had to give up before he could capture the scenario.  Any idea that saw him not in the place he stood now just seemed torturous in comparison.

And it wasn't just their obvious power, it was everything orally-related—the words he spoke, the songs he sung, when Seth was lucky enough to hear them that was, usually after creeping into the bathroom when Ryan thought he had already left for work.  It was his voice, his smile, everything and all things he chose to express with lips Seth never deemed himself deserving of, including Seth's favorite—the kiss.

It had been another night in the pool house, all of the important nights seemed to happen in the pool house, and Seth was once again lying on Ryan's bed, trying to wait out the sleep he knew would overtake them both so he could drop his head onto the pillow without having to seem overly wanting of the space.

Ryan was sitting near the windows at the foot of the bed, fiddling with a new pocket knife he'd saved up his wages from The Crab Shack to buy.  Seth watched as he popped the blade out, running his thumb along the glinting silver then snapped it back in sharply.  Seth thought it was dangerous, daring, and he couldn't take his eyes off Ryan's fingers.

Open, shut, open, shut, the rhythmic flipping of the red Swiss Army casing against his palm as the silver streak shot out and in, over and over.  Seth was entranced, and he was feeling a little hot.

Coughing loudly, he rolled over to flop in what he hoped was a pathetic looking position and sighed.

"I'm beat."

Ryan shrugged, slapping his hand against the blunt edge of the blade to send it slamming back into the holder.  "Go to sleep."

Seth tipped his head to watch the other carefully, searching for any sign that he was interested in a night of sharing a bed.  Ryan gave him nothing, instead pulling out the miniscule scissors nestled in the back of the knife and twirling the whole contraption around in his hand.

Seth frowned and pushed himself up off the bed.  "Okay then, 'nite."

That got Ryan's attention, his head snapping up at the announced exit, wondering if Seth had finally decided to go get his own pillow before returning to sleep in the bed he seemed to love so much.  As soon as he saw the dejected slump in the other's shoulders he knew he'd been that thing that Seth hated again, distant he remembered Seth saying once, and sighed loudly as he stood.

"You don't have to leave."

Seth stopped at the door, one hand already on the handle, and stared at Ryan's reflection in the glass.  "Do you want me to stay?"

Ryan shrugged, again.  Damn it, he wanted him to say it.  "I don't care."

It was supposed to sound nonchalant, off-hand, like it didn't matter one way or the other whether he slept alone or crawled in beside the boy who'd become his almost constant companion.  Instead it came out sounding forced, like 'I don't care' really was the way he felt.  He'd hoped that Seth would know the difference by now.

"Seth…"

His voice was low, too low, and he panicked as he thought Seth didn't hear him.

He did.  Seth had watched the whole unspoken scene play out on Ryan's face, the boy who concealed his secrets so brilliantly useless at hiding his emotions.  He knew he was allowed to stay, he always knew he could stay, the bigger question was why he was wanted… and why he wanted to himself.

"You don't care."

It was a statement but as Seth turned to face him, Ryan knew he was still expected to answer.

"I don't… I…"  Ryan stammered as he reached for the comfort of his knife and twirled it across his knuckles.  "You know you can always stay."

It was a weak reply, Ryan knew it and as he watched Seth's lips purse into the trademark pout of one who didn't understand, he knew he'd be hearing exactly how ridiculous not saying the real reason was.

"You know, Ryan," Seth started slowly, gesturing towards his friend as he paced three quick steps towards the bed then stopped with his hand on his chin.  "If I was a smarter guy or, let's face it, if I was even one iota anywhere close to being considered cool, I'd be worried that what I'm about to say, and bear with me here because this is going to be, like… epic, I'd worry that it would cement my nomination as 'biggest turd in the world', but since I'm not, and this may or may not be a good thing, I'm just going to come right out and say it.  What are we doing?"

Ryan stared at Seth, his expression exactly the same as it had been before the prattling began.  He should have been moving, blinking, breathing at least.

Seth wondered if he hadn't had a stroke.

"Ryan?"

Now Ryan blinked, slowly, twice, then again, then swallowed and tucked his knife back into his pocket.  "That's what you have to say?  'What are we doing?'"

"I think it has many interpretations."

Ryan blushed.

Seth swore he'd never seen Ryan blush.

Ryan had to turn away, push his attention to something, anything not Seth Cohen-related.  He didn't have a problem with Seth sleeping in his bed, it wasn't as if he'd actually forced him to fall asleep; he didn't even have a problem with Seth needing to be held, he wasn't the one who'd asked for comfort, it was all the kid.  But if Seth expected Ryan to talk about it…

Ryan looked up to see a surprisingly stoic Seth waiting for an answer.

Ah hell, who was he kidding, he wanted Seth to spend every night in his bed, practically begged him with his eyes each time he stepped for the door.  And the holding had never been something Seth initiated, that had been all Ryan.  If Seth wanted to talk about it, Ryan could at least give him an answer.

"I don't know."

"You don't know.  Great Ryan, super."

"Well, what do you want me to do?  Give you a historical account of all the nights you've spent in here and the socio-economic implications of each?"

Seth frowned as he shifted on his feet.  "The emotional effect would do."

Ryan rocked back on his heels, his hands diving deep into his pockets for some lost sense of balance.

"I don't know how to explain it."  Ryan looked up at Seth through narrowed eyes.  "I just want it."

"I do too."  Seth's voice was hoarse.  "But I need to understand it."

"Why?"

Seth burst.  "Because it's weird!  It's weird that I come out here every day and don't want to leave until an hour past when I'm supposed to and I never, ever even once check my watch because I don't want to know how little time we have left and I can't even begin to explain that stupid thing my stomach does where I swear I'm going to puke, seriously dude, and then I don't and I think that makes it even worse."

Seth panted as he stared at Ryan's fast-widening eyes.

"Can you tell me why I feel this way?  Can you tell me why I didn't feel the same way about Summer, or Anna, or Christy fucking Turlington?"

"You like Christy Turlington?"

"Have you seen the Victoria's Secret fashion show Ryan, have you?  Christy fucking Turlington."

"Okay fine, but just because they don't do it for you…"

"Do they do it for you?"

"Who?  Summer and Anna?"

"No, anyone, Marissa?"

"Marissa was a long time ago."

"I know, but what about Miranda Stevens, or Katie Adams, or Christy fucking…"

"Could you stop saying fucking?"

"Fine, but you're going to have to say it for me because this situation definitely calls for fucking."

Ryan stopped, watched Seth turn the color of a tomato, then burst out laughing.

It took Seth a moment longer, his ears burning as embarrassment flooded his face, but he tentatively joined in Ryan's laughter, starting slowly, then increasing, until he was doubled over with his arm across his stomach and the roar echoing through the room was deafening.

"Oh God, oh dude… I didn't mean…"  Seth gasped as he rolled himself onto the bed and tipped back to lie down.  His stomach convulsed as his giggles continued unabated.

Ryan collapsed beside him, his hand wiping tears from his eyes as he watched Seth fight to regain control of his body.

"Don't apologize, that was…" Ryan stopped to catch his breath.  "That was… fitting."

Seth cried as the last chuckles escaped.  "Fitting maybe but oh man… embarrassing."

"Nah, don't apologize.  Broke the tension anyway."

His lingering smiled faded as Seth pushed himself back into a sitting position so that his shoulder rested a hair's breadth away from Ryan.  "We had tension?"

Ryan lost his smile and shrugged.

"That's a first."

Seth chewed his bottom lip as wished his peripheral vision were better and struggled to see Ryan's expression.  He rubbed his hands along his thighs trying to spark the courage to repeat his question when Ryan stopped him.

"I think we're just doing what feels right."

Seth decided that staying quiet, for once, was the better choice.

"I mean, it's like, this place, the pool house, it's cool and everything and it feels like ours, or mine, but you're always here… whatever."

Seth nodded sagely as if Ryan had just said something very important.  He didn't have a sweet clue what it was supposed to mean.

"And it's good and it's comfortable, but when I think about leaving, about college, a job, it feels weird that we won't still have a place, like it's sort of wrong somehow."

This new information made a little more sense but Seth still couldn't put the pieces together.

"So when I think about not being here, about being somewhere else, with a life, and all the shit and stuff, I think… I think about being there with you."

Suddenly everything clicked.

"You mean, like, together?"

Ryan shrugged and bowed his head further towards his chest.  His voice was quiet when he spoke.  "Yeah, together."

"Duuude."  Seth's voice came out like a low whistle.  "Does that mean, like, do you… d-do you think we're g-g-gay?"

Ryan snapped his eyes open, not brave enough to raise his head.

"What?"

Shit, he was going to make him repeat it.

"I said…"

"I heard what you said."

Seth couldn't remember if he was supposed to inhale or exhale to get oxygen, his lungs screaming as he chose the wrong option and sat still next to Ryan, afraid to even blink.

Ryan coughed and ran a hand through already wild hair.  "But that's crazy right?"  He dared a sideways glance at his companion.

Seth nodded eagerly.  "Crazy."

Ryan whispered, "Yeah crazy."

He stared back down at his hands clutched in fists between his legs.  Seth was sitting so close to him, the warmth from his body radiated out and scorched the sides of Ryan's arm yet the distance between them yawned like the Grand Canyon, insurmountable unless you were willing to risk it all and just jump.

Ryan jumped.

Sitting up, he raised his hand and reached out towards Seth's face, never hesitating even when the boy eyed him warily and seemed to wonder what the hell he thought he was doing.  Ryan persisted, there was no safety net to catch him as he fell but he hoped, he prayed, that Seth would be there waiting for him at the bottom.

Lips met in a crushing vice, pushing against the other as two who knew nothing about what they were supposed to feel tried to figure it out together, testing, teasing, tongues darting out tentatively to seek permission.  Ryan pulled his hand along Seth's neck, Seth sought comfort in the fabric of Ryan's shirt.  They moaned and hissed, fighting for air as neither wished to pull away first until finally, spent, Seth leaned back and rested his forehead against Ryan's.

He licked his lips to the taste of Ryan glistening on their surface.

"That was a first."

Ryan panted as he stared down at Seth's lowered eyes, the flush spreading across the boy's cheeks surely matched by his own complete lack of control.

"It was a good first?"

Seth moved away to find Ryan's eyes, searching for the answer he wanted to speak.  "Oh God, yes."

Ryan smiled then and Seth knew he would forever and always be in love with those lips.

It was destined, Seth decided much later, Ryan's arrest, his abandonment, his arrest… again, his return…it could only be attributed to fate and when Seth arrived at this conclusion, he spent a whole day saying thank you to whatever spirit 'Fate' happened to be.

Glancing over at Ryan crouched on their kitchen floor, tools spread all around him that Seth couldn't name let alone use, he smiled as he tucked away the scrapbook of memories he had so carefully crafted from every monumental first they'd shared.  He didn't like to take it out often, usually reserved it for special occasions so it would keep its shine, but sometimes he let himself cheat a little, delving in when he just wanted to remember how lucky he was to find the person he was born for right in his very own house.

Their love, their life, no matter how many seconds, thirds and fourths they shared, would always be based on firsts—Ryan was the first person Seth had ever loved and as he caught his partner's eye and knelt down to hand him what was most definitely going to be the wrong tool, he smiled as he realized that was the most important first of all.

The End