A/N Okay, I've had such serious writer's block. I said screw it, I'll
just leave chapter 3 the way it is and try to move on from there. I'm so
happy for my reviews & I don't like to keep you waiting so let's see where
this goes.
Title: Shift Chapter: Wednesday Morning
Ryan rode by in time to see Luke and Seth curled up on the beach. Nothing more. He kept reminding himself that it was all he saw, but it was getting hard to ignore the picture being pieced together.
His legs never stopped moving on the pedals. He almost broke his neck and crashed into a telephone pole before he managed to break his eyes away from the scene before him. He made a quick U-Turn and pedaled with fury, racing through the Newport Streets. He told himself that it was the rush of wind in his face causing the tears.
He went faster and faster, crying harder with each push of his leg. After almost choking on the snot running into his mouth, he struggled to brake the bike. Once he was still, it suddenly struck him that he was really, really crying. The more he tried to stop, though, the more his chest heaved.
He tried to push the image of Seth and Luke together out of his mind and it just made it clearer. He fell to the ground, sobbing in the fetal position.
He didn't understand why he was crying, he didn't want to think about it either. He just figured that another person was lying to him. It was nothing new. . . . he just thought it was going to be different here. So as far as he was telling himself, he was crying because he'd let himself get his hopes up and open up. . . .somewhat.
He lay there for about 8 minutes before realizing that somebody (namely Seth or Luke) might come by. He didn't know how he could even look at Seth at that point. He needed time to get himself together. He needed to pretend he didn't care about what he just saw. He obviously had to convince himself about that too.
And he really didn't trust himself right now if Luke walked by and saw him like that. That pompous fuck. He'd joke about him crying. . . . or worse, he'd act all caring. That fucking show he puts on. Ryan really didn't trust himself not to start swinging on sight. And if he saw them together. That would severely hinder him acting like he didn't know what was going on. Because he didn't know how he could ever see them in the same area and not just feel rage at this. . . .betrayal.
He thought about it. Every time they'd seen each other there had been this secret there and Ryan felt like an idiot.
He told himself not to think about the scratches because then he'd have to ask himself whether they'd been forced or if Seth just liked. . . . nope, he wasn't going to think about it. Ryan jumped on the bike and started toward the house. He didn't want to know anymore. It was so much better not knowing. So he rode and he tried to regain his composure. He'd act like he didn't know a thing. I mean, what had he really seen? Nothing. He'd seen nothing.
And what did he care anyway? Seth was a big boy; he didn't need someone his own age trying to watch over him. . . . spoiling his fun.
Even as Ryan told himself this, he knew things were going to boil over. He was keeping so much inside already. . . . this was bound to come out. And what would escape with it, he could not be sure. But until that time he'd try. He'd go on and ignore the cuts and ignore the quietness, and ignore the little beach cuddle he just saw.
How long could he keep a front like that up? Long enough, he had experience with putting on a mask. But, it wouldn't be too hard to provoke him. Actually, he'd be provoked quite easily.
A/N I really just wanted to post something while I write the big, long chunk of the story when stuff starts to happen. I give you my word: before the week is done, we'll make some progress.
(I actually do have an idea for a happy Luke/Seth one-shot & I'll get to that once this one gets somewhere.)
Title: Shift Chapter: Wednesday Morning
Ryan rode by in time to see Luke and Seth curled up on the beach. Nothing more. He kept reminding himself that it was all he saw, but it was getting hard to ignore the picture being pieced together.
His legs never stopped moving on the pedals. He almost broke his neck and crashed into a telephone pole before he managed to break his eyes away from the scene before him. He made a quick U-Turn and pedaled with fury, racing through the Newport Streets. He told himself that it was the rush of wind in his face causing the tears.
He went faster and faster, crying harder with each push of his leg. After almost choking on the snot running into his mouth, he struggled to brake the bike. Once he was still, it suddenly struck him that he was really, really crying. The more he tried to stop, though, the more his chest heaved.
He tried to push the image of Seth and Luke together out of his mind and it just made it clearer. He fell to the ground, sobbing in the fetal position.
He didn't understand why he was crying, he didn't want to think about it either. He just figured that another person was lying to him. It was nothing new. . . . he just thought it was going to be different here. So as far as he was telling himself, he was crying because he'd let himself get his hopes up and open up. . . .somewhat.
He lay there for about 8 minutes before realizing that somebody (namely Seth or Luke) might come by. He didn't know how he could even look at Seth at that point. He needed time to get himself together. He needed to pretend he didn't care about what he just saw. He obviously had to convince himself about that too.
And he really didn't trust himself right now if Luke walked by and saw him like that. That pompous fuck. He'd joke about him crying. . . . or worse, he'd act all caring. That fucking show he puts on. Ryan really didn't trust himself not to start swinging on sight. And if he saw them together. That would severely hinder him acting like he didn't know what was going on. Because he didn't know how he could ever see them in the same area and not just feel rage at this. . . .betrayal.
He thought about it. Every time they'd seen each other there had been this secret there and Ryan felt like an idiot.
He told himself not to think about the scratches because then he'd have to ask himself whether they'd been forced or if Seth just liked. . . . nope, he wasn't going to think about it. Ryan jumped on the bike and started toward the house. He didn't want to know anymore. It was so much better not knowing. So he rode and he tried to regain his composure. He'd act like he didn't know a thing. I mean, what had he really seen? Nothing. He'd seen nothing.
And what did he care anyway? Seth was a big boy; he didn't need someone his own age trying to watch over him. . . . spoiling his fun.
Even as Ryan told himself this, he knew things were going to boil over. He was keeping so much inside already. . . . this was bound to come out. And what would escape with it, he could not be sure. But until that time he'd try. He'd go on and ignore the cuts and ignore the quietness, and ignore the little beach cuddle he just saw.
How long could he keep a front like that up? Long enough, he had experience with putting on a mask. But, it wouldn't be too hard to provoke him. Actually, he'd be provoked quite easily.
A/N I really just wanted to post something while I write the big, long chunk of the story when stuff starts to happen. I give you my word: before the week is done, we'll make some progress.
(I actually do have an idea for a happy Luke/Seth one-shot & I'll get to that once this one gets somewhere.)