Title: Dirty Little Secret
Fandom: The O.C.
Author: Femslashqueen
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Kirsten
Archive: Comment or email me first
Spoilers: The Premiere, The Model Home, The Gamble
A/N: Veers major AU after The Premiere, an exploration of Ryan/Kirsten
Summary: It turns out she is exactly who she thought he was.
It turns out she is exactly who she thought he was.
He had managed to pull the wool over Sandy's eyes, but she knew better. Seth is far too naïve to understand the games he plays, she is not.
Yet despite this she wants him. She wants to feel his rippling muscles contract underneath her fingertips, wants to feel his hot breath against her neck before he kisses her.
He got her son into a fight and now they both have black eyes, Seth's is pathetic, weak but his is sexy as hell. She wonders what other bruises, wounds and scars he has, on anyone else scars would be ugly, sad; on him they would be beautiful a sign of strength, that he has survived at all is a turn on.
She told Sandy to take him home. Because it was easier than dealing with the feelings he elicits in her, the desperate overwhelming desire. She understands it, the desire, she felt the same way about Sandy once upon a time; Sandy used to be different, dangerous, exciting, like nothing she had ever known before. Now Sandy id exactly the same as her, she love him, Sandy, her love for him is so deep, it physically hurts, almost, a dull achy feeling in the pit of her stomach to even be thinking of somebody else, especially to be thinking him.
Sandy took him home and brought him right back again, his family was gone, he had no one and yet she still didn't think of him as a young boy who needed nothing more than someone to love him, she only thought of him as a hardened criminal, sexy, nasty dangerous. She was deeply in lust with him. Sometimes all she wanted was not to make love to her husband but to have some random stranger or this young boy who was nothing like a child to fuck her until she couldn't see straight, to pound into her with such force she thought she might break.
The first night he was back he was still awake at 3am, Sandy was awake too, fretting, he was capable of being a father to this boy; she didn't ever think she could be his mother.
She had pretended to be asleep that night, waited until 4am when Sandy finally couldn't take it anymore and crept down to the kitchen, careful not to wake his sleeping family and grabbed four Mogadon, two for him and two for the boy, waited until Sandy had come back, waited until he was deep in a chemical-hazed sleep before leaving their bedroom.
She knew he would have taken the pills, his demeanour changes around Sandy, he is no longer a hardened criminal who gets her son into fights, with Sandy he is like a stray puppy, maybe because he thinks Sandy will let him stay, apparently he has yet to discover that she wears the pants in the Cohen household and she can't let him stay because scared of him, at least that is what she'll tell Sandy, truth is she is scared not of him bout of what she wants to do to him, how he makes her feel.
That night she only watched, she didn't even go inside the pool house, Sandy had left the blinds on the pool house doors open so she simply watched him through the glass. She had a good view his bedside lamp; her bedside lamp was on, casting a dim light over him. He had kicked his sheets off, he tossed and turned in his sleep in spite of the Mogadon, she watched his muscles ripple as he moved, memorized his features. She closed her eyes briefly and imagined him on top of her, felt her nipples harden and her whole body tingle. She turned around and walked away, filled with guilt and regret, she went back to her room and gripped onto her husband, still knocked out from the Mogadon, she held onto Sandy so tight she was convinced he would have bruises the following morning.
But it wasn't enough, she wasn't close enough to him, after an hour, long after giving up on the idea of sleep for the night she woke him, fucked her still groggy husband, closed her eyes and imagined it wasn't him underneath her.
She came that morning for the first time in years.
Then once Sandy left for work she cried, overcome with guilt.
She thought she was rid of him after the model home incident, she had an easy excuse, even if it was eating her up inside because she knew the truth, the fire was accidental, the police had said something about paint cans and candles, but it was easier than having him around.
Sandy had figured out something was going on, stopped pushing the issue, Seth on the other hand had insisted on visiting him, she knew it was a bad idea, but Seth was determined and she wasn't letting him go to a jail by himself.
Two seconds in there, even before that guy started leering at her and she knew she would be bringing him home, she was thankful that the jumpsuit covered up his body, she could just maintain control. She couldn't believe how selfish she had been, the boy was covered in bruises; there was a nasty-looking wound on his neck, she couldn't believe that she had done this to him, because she was too weak to deal with having him around, because she couldn't trust herself when he was around.
That night was with the last time Sandy had given him a dose of Mogadon, and then taken some himself.
She had to see him, she was sure Sandy would contact Child Services in the morning, they had a private investigator searching for his mother, something else was driving her, something instinctual, something independent of any feeling of guilt, remorse or regret she was going to inevitably feel the following morning.
She crept down to the pool house at midnight, this time she let herself in, and sat on the couch, watching him, he was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts and again the sheet had fallen off of him, she watched him in heavy dreamless sleep for hours, he was so sexy, so beautiful, she examined his scars from a distance, he had a long one on his arm, several smaller ones on his back and chest, possibly cigarette burns, she couldn't resist, she just had to touch him.
She reached out and traced her hand along the long scar on his arm, her whole body tingled; she stood over him and kissed him on the lips her whole body shuddering as a jolt of electricity ran through it, once only once before leaving the pool house.
She went back to the house and dressed herself, leaving a note for Sandy in case he woke before she got back, she had nowhere to go but she couldn't stay here, not now, she wondered if it would be considered adultery, she drove to the beach, sat on the sand and let the stunning guilt of that she had just done crash over her, she didn't cry didn't mover, only concentrated on remembering to breath and trying to get the feel of his lips against hers out of her mind.
When she gets back to the house it is morning and he is gone, child services have picked him up, his mother is in San Diego and they are taking him to her.
"Where were you?" Sandy asked her clearly panicked.
"Out." She replied giving the vaguest answer possible, unable to face the truth before silencing him with a kiss.
That morning the morning he left; she fucked Sandy stupid against the kitchen counter making sure never to close her eyes, never to think of him, she takes a handful of sleeping pills each night to stop the dreams and Ryan Atwood will always be her dirty little secret.