So Cliché

by Elgatoneun (elgatoneun@yahoo.com)

Title: So Cliché
Author: elgatoneun
Rating: NC-17 for slash and sexual situations
Pairing: Seth/Ryan
Summary: Seth and Ryan enact some of those classic clichés
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Spoilers: Everything up to and including The Escape.
Feedback: Would be appreciated
Notes: This is for the OC Flashfic challenge. This is particular scenario is for bella_anne. Seth gives Ryan a backrub for a soccer injury. I was also asked to make it "sweet and sexy", I hope this satisfies.

It was a rare rainy day in normally sunny Southern California. The rain’s fierce tattoo against the French glass doors provided satisfactory white noise for the sole occupant of the pool house. Lying on the bed, Seth Cohen languidly perused old back issues of Evangeline. He fondly remembered his first fumbling attempts to read and, er, enjoy Evangeline in all her ass-kicking scantily-clad glory. Ah, youth.

Many an hour had been spent on the analysis of how the strategically placed, barely there costume stayed on in the many physically demanding skirmishes she had to engage in to ensure the safety of the citizens of her fair city. Perhaps there was a special superhero industrial strength glue that adhered to the luscious expanses of flesh …

Ryan Atwood made an appearance at the door, fairly drenched in nature’s hydrating bounty.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" Ryan closed the door behind him and raked his hand through his hair, pushing the wet strands away from his eyes.

"The ‘rents, they’re macking." Seth wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Apparently, the rain is making them feel romantic, I had to leave the premises or I might witness something that will contribute to my future therapist’s payments on a nice little beach house in Malibu."

Ryan smiled, amused.

"So what were you doing out all this time?"

"Luke and I were practicing for the game next week. It took us a little bit of time to get all the gear in – one of the soccer balls got stuck behind a bush."

"So you and Luke were kicking around some balls. You and Luke, ball kickers, kicking balls, playing around with balls, balls with which you must kick …"

Ryan shot him a ‘Don’t go there’ look.

"He didn’t offer you a ride home? How ungentlemanly."

"No, he did. It’s pouring out there."

"Hm," Seth looked Ryan up and down. A nice rainy day treat.

"Seth!" Ryan seemed annoyed. He was dripping water on the carpet. His hair was plastered to his head in that sexy wet way that never happened in real life – only in CK ads. He watched as Ryan slowly moved across the room. He like the way the damp shirt sort of clung to Ryan’s chest. The way it alternately molded against firm muscle and then gave way to movement. It was teasing him, a sensual game of peek-a-boo …

Ryan coughed audibly. Seth eyes lazily traversed Ryan’s wet, compact frame finally stopping at hooded eyes staring at him expectantly. Ryan actually snapped his fingers.

"Focus, Seth!" Ryan was very impatient sometimes. Seth was a weak man, and he knew it. Ryan knew it, so that should call for special allowances, sort of like handicaps in golf.

"Why were you outside? If it was raining …" Seth trailed off as he became absorbed in one particular raindrop as it shimmied its way down the side of Ryan’s cheek along the line of his jaw and traversed the exposed neck. He realized that there was now silence unfilled by his usual verbal observations on life, love, the pros and cons of McDonald’s new all white meat chicken nuggets, etc. Luckily, Ryan cut him a break.

"It wasn’t raining when I went out. The weatherman said it would be clear skies the whole weekend." Ryan gave the appearance of a shrug without moving any part of his body whatsoever. One of these days Seth was going to have to ask him how he did that.

"The weatherman! Ha, this is TV. Have you learned nothing from the box that guides us? There are no meteorologists there. They’re just people with shiny teeth and non-moveable hair. I scoff at your naiveté."

Seth gestured to his face.

"This is me scoffing at you. Me. Scoffing. You."

Ryan arched an eyebrow at Seth but otherwise ignored him. He resumed his journey, presumably to the bathroom, shivering and limping slightly.

"Maybe you should get out of those wet things," Seth winced at the words, "you could, um catch," Ryan’s eyebrow arched impossibly higher, "hypothermia, yeah. And what’s with the Quasimodo impression?"

Ryan didn’t answer him immediately as he had finally made it to the bathroom. Seth was deprived of the visual stimuli. But he could hear the wet smack of water-logged fabric hitting tile. Plus he had a very good imagination.

"I think I pulled a muscle, or maybe it’s just a cramp." There was another wet sounding slap of material hitting the floor. Seth sat up, Evangeline and her nubile body all but forgotten.

Ryan stepped back into the room toweling his hair and clad in his trademark wife beater and boxer trunks. His gait was uneven as he made his way to the bed and plopped down on it next to Seth. A slight groan escaped his lips as his lower body hit the firm mattress.

"Dude, are you okay? Luke didn’t beat you up or anything, did he? I knew that ‘Mr. I’m all sensitive now because I’ve got a gay dad’ was just a clever ruse to hide his Ryan and Seth bashing tendencies."

"No, I told you, I think I pulled a muscle or something. It just started to hurt as I was walking up to the house."

Seth had a great idea and looked over at Ryan speculatively. Ryan moved away instinctively.

"You know, I could give you a therapeutic massage."

"No. I’ll just ask Rosa where the tiger balm is." Ryan was skittish and suspicious.

Seth steepled his hands under his chin and pressed his lips together in his best German doctor impression.

"Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, somehow, we must get you over this deep-rooted mistrust you have of people. It’s not good for you. It will eventually rot your soul and ruin all your relationships, until you’re nothing but a bitter dried out husk of a shell of a man – a lonely, husky, shelly man."

Ryan eyed him warily, obviously not convinced.

"I’m an expert at deep tissue massage, I learned it at camp. Trust me, Ryan."

Ryan’s dubious expression did not relent.

"I don’t think so."

Seth nodded at him in a reassuring manner when inspiration hit.

"You know, maybe we should talk about your trust issues. Share your thoughts with me, what is Ryan Atwood all about? Who is he, what makes him tick, how do you define…"

"Okay, just shut up, and no oil. Do you want me on the bed or on the floor?" Seth gleefully noted the dull blush heat Ryan’s face as he realized the context with which those words could be taken. But Ryan stubbornly refused clarify his words. He knew anything he said would just make it worse.

Seth patted the area on the bed next to him.

"Just lay down on your stomach, that’s a good boy."

Seth wanted to rub his hands together with glee – so he did.

He faltered slightly as the realization that Ryan’s body was now his for the touching actually hit him.

"Um, okay, so where does it hurt?" Ryan mumbled his answer into the pillow.

"Yeah, good, except I don’t know where ‘mlahmulmrphle’ is." Ryan turned his head and lifted it slightly off the pillow.

"It’s my right leg, not quite the inside of my thigh, but in the back."

Seth’s hands hovered over the spot before firmly pressing his fingers into the flesh there. A quick, indrawn breath from Ryan confirmed that he was right on target. The muscle underneath his fingers was tight and hard. He squeezed gently and repeatedly, trying to relax the muscle. He alternated pressure in a circular pattern until he felt the knot finally give way. As he worked he could feel some of the tension leave Ryan’s body. His breathing slowed.

Seth slid his hands up Ryan’s body, barely suppressing the urge to cup the firm ass. He pulled the white cotton of the wife beater up; rolled it up to expose a nicely tanned back.

"The cramp was just in my leg."

"I have to do the whole repertoire. It’s like not finishing a popsicle, you just don’t do it."

Seth concentrated on the areas just below the shoulder blades. He pressed his palms down and rubbed in circular motions, expanding the circles while steadily moving down to the small of Ryan’s back.

Ryan exhaled a shaky breath. Seth smiled wickedly and continued to work his magic. He repeated the path from shoulder to waist applying deeper pressure and was rewarded with a definite groan of pleasure.

Ryan Atwood was a moaner. Seth continued kneading the flesh beneath him in different patterns, wringing low sensual sounds out of that beautiful mouth. He felt like a virtuoso musician, producing a gorgeous symphony of guttural moans and sighs, indrawn breaths and hitched exhalations.

The best reaction came when he moved his palm straight down along the spinal column. Ryan’s body visibly jumped.

"Roll over, time to do the front now."

"No, that’s okay."

"Ryan, turn over." Seth used his best teacher voice.

"No."

Seth knew what he had to do. He went in for the kill and tickled mercilessly.

Ryan turned immediately and flipped their positions. The brief tussle resulted in him atop Seth’s slim body with his hands pinning Seth’s wrists to the bed.

He stared at Seth’s panting mouth, aware that he was hard and pressing into Seth as much as possible. Ryan lowered his head and caught Seth’s lips with his own. His teeth tugged at Seth’s lower lip, biting it slightly.

It was Seth’s turn to moan. His tongue came out to tease at the seam of Ryan’s mouth.

"Dude, I thought I was supposed to be corrupting you. You know, using my massage skills to take advantage of you." Seth grinned unabashedly.

"You were taking too long. It was torture." Ryan smiled back crookedly.

"And you say I have no self-control. Who’s the master now? This was your idea, remember? What’s with all these role-playing fantasies, anyway? And how come I’m always the one seducing you? At least you didn’t make me wear a costume this time. Geez, Ryan, who knew you were so kinky? I think performing musicals at such a young age warped you."

Ryan silenced him with another descent into Seth’s mouth. This time his tongue explored the wet hot goodness that was Seth. He teased him by grinding his pelvis down as he licked Seth’s soft lips. He pulled back, panting slightly.

"Hey, I’m not the one that wanted to pretend to be Bert and Ernie. Man, you are seriously twisted."

Seth retaliated by pushing his hips up, rubbing against Ryan in a completely gratifying manner. Ryan let go of his wrists. He sank down into Seth, letting their upper bodies meld together. Ryan’s lips found the side of Seth’s neck. He licked and sucked the delectable skin there as Seth offered up sounds of appreciation. They moved their lower bodies in sync, building the pleasure, taking in the bone-melting friction. They ground their cocks against each other, letting the frantic movements build pressure.

Seth’s hand squeezed Ryan’s ass, massaging the cheeks as they both thrust harder, faster. Seth arched his back as much as possible, addicted to the feel of Ryan. Seth came as Ryan bit down particularly hard on his throat. A second later, Ryan came as well. The room was silent except for the heaving breathing of recovery.

"Did you really learn that at camp?"

"If, by camp, you mean ‘not at home’ and say by ‘an older boy I met not at home’, then yes."

Ryan pressed a quick kiss on Seth’s forehead and rolled off of him.

"C’mon. Let’s take a shower." Ryan smiled at him, almost leeringly. "I’ll let you do my front this time."

Seth sighed happily. The things he did for love.

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