Honey and the Moon
by fearord
Synopsis: Ryan and Seth look for answers on the beach. They don't come easy. Set in early season 1.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Pairing; R/S
Ryan was alone on the beach. The sky was lost in the falling darkness, stars beginning to shimmer in the tenseness of the air. The sea smelled of freedom, and at that moment, escape never seemed so near to him, yet so inaccessible.
"Where am I?" he surprised himself by saying out loud. His heart was still, and he thought of his brother.
Seth called out "Ryan, where are you?"
Ryan didn't answer, but Seth found him anyway. "I knew you'd be here."
Ryan looked at him. He had nothing to say, but was glad for the company. He sat down, which Seth took as an invitation to do the same.
"You know, when I look at the sea, I see a blank slate. So many possibilities. One day…" Seth began, but fell silent.
"One day you'll sail off?" Ryan asked.
"I will," Seth said.
"I still have that map of the Pacific you gave me."
"You'd better. It's my favorite one." Seth replied. "Of course, now we'll just use it together."
Seth looked at Ryan. His blond hair was blowing gently in the salt breeze, his face inscrutable. He was seated, his arms were wrapped around his right knee, his left leg was lying bent on sand, still warm from the afternoon sun. He looked smaller than Seth thought of him.
"Is this a talk moment, or a be quiet moment? Because I am so good at being quiet if that is what you need. Total churchmouse with a muzzle quiet. Snowstorm on Coney Island quiet. Or not, if it's a talk moment, or whatever…" Seth ended lamely, realizing he sounded ridiculous.
"Either. It's cool you're here." No sarcasm in Ryan's voice.
"Cool?" Seth smiled a bit, and laughed, surprised. "I'm not use to the fact that you talk to me. Well, I try. I mean, I want to be cool for us to talk. I'd like us to be friends and all. Not just friends like I say 'hey' and jut my chin out at you at a party, but friends like 'dude, my appendix just burst' and you're like 'dude, can I take it out for you here in the middle of nowhere and save your life? You know, the secret communication with just a look, like first season Clark and Chloe," Seth said. "Of course, " he added thoughfully, "you've already got that entire broody look thing going on anyway, but you know what I mean. And Chloe has issues, I shouldn't have brought her into this. Plus, I'm way not Chloe. I don't have the chest. Or the flippy hair. But you know what I mean."
Ryan looked up at the moon. "You know, when my Mom came to pick me up from jail, all I wanted was maybe for her not to embarrass me, you know, in front of your dad. Which is weird, because I didn't know him. And we are friends, I guess."
"What did she do?" Seth asked, and then added, "You guess?"
"She yelled at me. She'd been drinking a little bit, and I think that Sandy was a little scared for me. Whatever, he gave me your number—I mean his number-- and now you know the rest. And the 'I guess' is just in case."
"I'm not going anywhere, Ry, and I know you aren't going anywhere, so friend or brother is what we're left with. Personally, I'm aiming for brother, but I figure that takes a while. Besides it isn't weird to not want your mom to embarrass you in front of a stranger. Sometimes those you least know mean the most." Seth paused. "You remember that fight on the beach with Luke?"
"My cheek does." Ryan replied.
Seth grinned, "Yea, I'd never been hit before. And there you were with the Jet Li moves. Since then, I've got your back."
"I need to go somewhere and figure things out." Ryan was quiet.
"You can't leave. We went through that before. Besides, the parents would go utterly mad-cow, and I don't have the strength yet do deal with them after the whole burning down the house thing."
Ryan smiled slowly, "Yea, that was bad. Thanks for coming for me."
"Of course." Seth replied.
"Of course?"
"Yea, of course."
Ryan didn't say anything. "I've never had an 'of course' for anything before."
"Dude, it's cool."
"Not really, Seth. Nothing is cool anymore. I mean, your folks are great, and this house is great, but I don't know how to expect anything. My stomach hurts."
The moon hung in the sky, a sailor in the emptiness. The sound of the water filled the silences. Seth couldn't be sure, but he thought that Ryan might be crying.
"Ryan, when I saw you out there on the porch at Holli's house and Summer was hanging on you, I was sure that you had—betrayed me. Which is ridiculous I know. How could you betray someone who had no right to expect anything from you? But I thought you were just like Luke, just like the other water polo boys, like everyone else in this ridiculous town. And I felt betrayed. But I was wrong, and you knew it. You should have just left. But you stayed, and when those guys were screwing with me, you were there. For no reason I can think of. I don't forget that."
Seth tentatively put a hand on Ryan's shoulder, and Ryan didn't move away. The muscle of his shoulder was hard and warm. "What I'm saying here is that I thought the worst of you. It would have been no harm, no foul if you walked away from your point of view. You knew that I was the freak, trying after some chick light-years out of my league, and you didn't do anything wrong. I didn't let you explain, I just assumed since you are strong and handsome--and seemed to fit in better already than I ever world—will--that you would be just like the rest."
"You wanted a friend, you thought I had messed you up. You were angry. Its ok." Ryan replied.
"I wanted to be your friend more than anything I'd ever wanted. Except for Summer, of course."
"Why?"
"Cause you're a hero, man. You're like Superman or John Crighton. You stick up for guys like me even when they think the worst of you. And you don't think it is extraordinary, because it is just who you are. You rescue girls too drunk to find their own way and let them take your bed. Without you in it. Don't think I didn't see that. You make everything you touch better."
"I destroy everything I touch." Ryan said.
"When I'm with you, I feel like I'm worth something more," Seth said.
Seth's hand was still on Ryan's shoulder, and Ryan he had made no attempt to move away.
"I can't tie a tie. I can't get my brother out of jail. I can't keep my mom…happy," Ryan replied.
"You stop Luke from making me a punching bag, and give me the courage to fight back, for the first time. Seriously, that is not normal Seth Cohen behavior. You make me not sit at the kids' table. You make me wear cologne. We'll figure the rest out."
Ryan turned his face to Seth. He wasn't crying, but there were the remnants of tears at the corners, and Seth looked away, not wanting to make Ryan uncomfortable.
"It's OK, Ryan," he said "I don't mind if you're upset or anything."
"OK? Ok for you. You have everything. I don't even know what I want to try to have it." Ryan's voice was barely audible above the waves.
Seth turned back to Ryan, thinking that Ryan would have had a chance to wipe his eye. But he hadn't. Ryan didn't seem to notice as a little moisture ran down his cheek.
"You've got me, man, you got me. Its my turn to get your back," Seth said, and handed him his beach towel.
Ryan didn't take the beach towel or wipe his eyes. They stared at each other, face to face, for a moment. The moon was out full now, and tears had worn a path down Ryan's face that could be seen, slightly, in the silver light. Seth was silent, staring at Ryan's eyes. He did not look away. Ryan put his hand up behind Seth's head, fingers in his hair. The expression on Ryan's face looked as if he were working against betraying something deep, stopping some flood, some disaster. Seth held his breath as Ryan moved his face a little closer to his own.
"Thanks, Seth," Ryan said not changing his gaze. Their foreheads touched.
Seth thought that it should have felt uncomfortable. Ryan's hand behind his head, entwined in his hair, knees touching knees, his hand on Ryan's shoulder, faces close together. It wasn't uncomfortable.
"Of course," Seth said. The moon hung there, a witness to longing, spilling silver across the landscape.
Ryan released him. "Let's go back in."
"Better?" Seth said, feeling a little hollow.
"No, but I can imagine being better again," Ryan said. "Escape doesn't happen does it? I mean, you can get away, but nothing lets you go."
"What do you want, Ryan?" Seth asked as they stood up and started to walk back to the house.
"I want someone to make it better."
"Don't we all, my friend. Don't we all. But maybe that is what we are doing. That, and getting sand out of our shorts."
Ryan smiled and shoved Seth's shoulder. Seth shoved him back, and they laughed.