Clean Clothes
Disclaimer: I have nada to do with The O.C. I do "O.D." on my "O.C." That was supposed to be clever and funny. Alas, no.
A/N: The result of boredom and a lack of homework. It's a tad bit naughty, but PG-13 and okay for me! : ) You can so easily tell how random and spur-of-the-moment this fic is. I think I'll go eat, talk on the phone, and get inspired. Enjoy.
Summer was bored. She had no classes the next day. Her friends were out club-hopping, and she opted to stay in her dorm and get some work done.
She ended up regretting that decision. Working was not the way to spend a Friday night, and scanning the channels wasn't a way either. She attempted to call Marissa, but just got her voice mail. The two of them hadn't talked in weeks, seeing as Marissa was in Boston and Summer was in L.A.
She was left with one option.
"Cohen!" she yelped as she banged on her boyfriend's door.
A tired-looking Seth answered the door. He groaned. "Hey, Summer,"
"Don't sound so excited to see me," she replied sarcastically. She waltzed past him and plopped down on his twin bed. She fixed her jean mini-skirt.
Seth sighed, "What's up? Where's Ali and her group?"
"Out clubbing, I much rather be here with you," Summer answered hastily.
She rose from his bed to slowly began to kiss his neck lightly. "You look so hot with your hair all messy," she said in between kisses, trying seduction.
Seth pulled away and shook his head. "Not cool. I have to write my European History paper tonight," he said, "I'm sowwy,"
Summer groaned. "You're like already failing, why does it matter?" she retorted, falling back on the bed in a huff.
Seth sat down at his desk and returned to typing up his paper. "I kind of wanna get out of that whole failing-thing," he replied with wit.
"Ugh," Summer said, annoyed, "How much do you have done?"
Seth shrugged, still focusing on the computer screen. "Three quarters,"
Knowing how long it took for Seth to write, Summer laid down, almost defeated. She decided staying at her boyfriend's and mooching off of his food instead of eating her own might be a better plan for the night. Then she got an even better one.
"Hey, ass face,"
Seth whirled around in his chair to face her. "Yes, sugarplum?" he replied.
"Didn't you wear those jeans like all last week?" she asked, continuing to play with her hair.
He nodded. "And this matters because?"
"When was the last time you did your laundry?" Summer inquired.
"When was the last time you let me finish my work with peace?" Seth snapped.
"When was the last time you jacked off? Answer my question,"
"Like, two weeks ago," Seth finally answered.
Summer got off the bed. "Hm...Why don't we do it now?" she suggested brightly.
With a few clicks, Seth saved his work. "You wouldn't let me finish if we didn't, would you?"
Summer grinned and shook her head "no." "Good boy, Cohen, you know me well. Let's go!"
The laundry room was small and warm. Seth, Summer, and an older, balding man were the only people in there. Seth dropped his basket on a machine.
"It's funny, you would think more people would come to do laundry on Friday nights," Seth muttered to particularly nobody.
Summer let out a chuckle. "Ha-ha, Cohen. It's not like you'd be anywhere else," she said, "I have to pee, I'll find the bathroom,"
The man a few machines away greeted Seth. "She's must be a lot to deal with,"
Seth smiled and shrugged. "She's worth it; you just have to know her,"
The man smiled in return. "It's nice to see some people come in. My wife made me come down here and do our laundry. Pregnancy hormones,"
Seth laughed politely and began to put his laundry into a machine. "I go to UCLA," he said after a few awkward moments passed.
The man nodded.
Summer returned soon after and interrupted the silence with a loud rant about the "nasty" bathrooms. Directly after, she smiled politely at the man.
Without warning, the man got his clothes and left, not lending a farewell.
"I don't know if the freaks in L.A. are worse then the ones in Newport," Summer stated.
Seth shrugged, "Tough choice. In one place, you have hookers and drugs. In the other, you have fist-fights at formal parties and Abercrombie-obsessed-kids,"
"True. We gotta move north after college," Summer said, semi-sarcastic.
"I talked to Anna yesterday," Seth blurted. For some odd reason, he was always cautious about talking about her around Summer. He knew the two now got along, but the mention of her brought up so much excess baggage in their relationship.
The past was the past, but the heartbreak stayed.
Summer smiled a little. "How's Miami working out for her?"
"She hates it. She wants to leave with Mark at the end of the semester,"
Summer shrugged. "Do you ever like, wish...This is so stupid, but, do you ever wish you two hadn't broken up?"
Seth paused and suppressed a smile and shook his head vigorously. "No. I wouldn't be here, doing laundry with you,"
Summer stopped as well. She kissed Seth lightly. "If only you didn't have that paper..." she trailed off, and then returned her lips to his.
"But I do," Seth said sadly as he pulled away again.
"Damn it,"
Summer was not about to lose this battle. She began to play with the hem of his shirt coolly. "We never do anything spontaneous," she tempted.
Before Seth could ramble a reply, Summer captured his lips with her own. He desperately wanted to resist but, God, he didn't. Was her hand creeping up his back? Oh, no, no, no. She never lost. Not this time.
Seth quickly pulled away. Summer flashed him a frown.
"You're too good at this," he sighed.
She smiled. "I know. You're not gonna let me win, are you?"
"I want to," he stated.
"I know that," Summer replied, "but are you going to?"
Seth shook his head and almost closed the door, but was halted by Summer. "I have some stuff to put in," she said quietly.
She couldn't help but laugh at Seth's face when she removed her tee-shirt and left him wanting to be her lacey pink bra at that moment.
"I think I lost," Seth said before taking her petite body in his arms and kissing her.
Summer giggled and planted a quick kiss on his lips. She smiled mischievously and played with the hairs on the back of his neck.
"That's because I always win,"