Disc: I don't own it, I swear.
Warnings: mild slash
a/n: this is just a random idea I came up with, no idea where it came from. Unbetad.Set in the first episode of season two. Enjoy and review.
"I've kissed your lips and held your head, shared your dreams and shared your bed. I know you well, I know your smell, I've been addicted to you. Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend. You have been the one, you have been the one for me." –James Blunt
He stares at the back of his head now, stomach contracting painfully at the sight, turns away then forces himself to look back again.
He at least owes him that.
He steps out into the garden, each step bringing him closer to the back of that curly head, bent in deep concentration over the grill, hands moving surely, flipping the burgers.
"Hey," he says.
Seth looks up, and there is a flash, just a flash, of hostility in his eyes before he smoothes his expression into one of bland friendship, which makes Ryan's stomach hurt even more.
"Hey," he replies.
They move away from the grill, onto the deck, and Ryan tries not to look but ends up looking anyway because Seth looks so damn good, and he never could stop looking.
But then that's why they've both ended up here, isn't it?
Seth is asking him something, and he tries to concentrate on the words, but gets lost somewhere at the lips and only smiles slightly, remembering another time, another place when those lips would have been his, if only he hadn't looked somewhere else.
Because that was how it was with Seth, you only had to look away for a second and he was gone, off on a tangent, something else grabbing his attention.
Ryan looked away for too long, and when he looked back, he'd already lost him.
"Have I sold you on the wonders of Portland?" asks Seth, and Ryan forces himself to shrug and shake his head and reply, to ignore the griping, clenching pain in his stomach.
"I've got this job," he says, and he desperately wants Seth to hear the unspoken plea in his words.
Ask me home, take me back. I'm sorry, we can start over. Please.
Seth is watching him a little too closely, and Ryan feels as though everything he feels is written across his face.
The moment stretches, tentative, like and old rubber band.
Seth opens his mouth hesitantly.
"Chino, your cab's here."
He snaps it shut again as if the very thought of the words burned him.
Ryan forces himself to look away, to Luke standing in the doorway, no idea of what he may or may not have just interrupted.
He raises a hand in acknowledgment, then stares at the wooden deck, avoiding Seth's eyes.
Get a grip. No one finds their soul mate at seventeen.
But when he does look, and the pain in his stomach becomes blinding, he thinks maybe he's wrong, maybe you can find your soul mate at seventeen. Find them and lose them.
He stands.
"Well, this is it."
Seth shrugs, not looking at him, and mutters "Don't be a stranger."
Ryan stared at him, the words a fist in his already convulsing gut.
He nods, but Seth still doesn't look up.
He's half way back to the house when he turns, and Seth is staring after him with a look of such pure misery he feels another sharp wave of pain.
"I love you," he says, unable to stop himself, just as he was unable to stop looking.
Seth closes his eyes suddenly, as if gathering strength that Ryan's words have knocked from him.
When he opens them again, his gaze is clear, decisive.
"I know," he says. "Just not enough."
Not enough for him to have stayed. Not enough for Seth to forgive him. Not enough.
Ryan turns away, goes through the house, and gets in his cab.
The cab that will take him back to the airport, back to Chino, back to Theresa.
"It is enough," he whispers, as if, by some miracle, Seth will hear him and come tearing out of the house, chasing up the road after them.
The door remains closed.
The cab pulls away.
Fin.