Weird

by Brenda Antrim (bren@bantrim.net)

Title: Weird
Author: Brenda Antrim
Feedback: bren@bantrim.net
Archive: Please send all requests to bren@bantrim.net
Pairing: Luke/Ryan implied
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For The Secret
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

Okay, so it hadn't been weird enough when Marissa had dumped him. Sure, a lot of it had been his fault, not being there for her when she was all torn up about her dad, but they'd come back together after he got shot – shot! He still couldn't believe that – and being stupid enough to get caught making out with her friend in the middle of a bar in Tijuana hadn't helped. So he'd opened up to her and reminded her of all their history and everything, and she still went slumming.

What the fuck did Ryan Atwood have that Luke Ward couldn't offer?

But then it got weirder. He couldn't seem to get away from Ryan. Every time he turned around at school, looking for Marissa, there was Ryan. He couldn't even escape out on the field. Ryan was on the soccer team. Ryan was in the cafeteria, in the library, in his classes, everywhere Luke turned, there was Ryan.

Luke even asked Bendis a week before if he could team up with Marissa for their history project, give him another chance to talk to her, maybe get her back if he was really lucky. Instead they got assigned partners, and who the hell did Bendis assign him?

Ryan.

Sometimes life sucked.

But he sucked it up, determined to get through this project (and wasn't it ironic that their assigned topic was the Spanish Inquisition? Sometimes he thought their history teacher actually had a sense of humor, and a really twisted one, too). He invited Ryan over to his house, he got books and a couple videos and pulled some stuff off the internet; anything to make this go as fast as possible so he could get the hell away from Ryan Atwood before Luke punched him again.

Or got punched. Not that Luke would admit it to anyone, since Ryan was at least six inches shorter than he was, but Ryan packed a hell of a punch. The last time he'd taken one on the jaw from Ryan he hadn't been able to eat right for a week.

Besides, he was trying to show Marissa that he wasn't some kind of Neanderthal. So he'd work with Ryan and he'd get it over with and then he could tell Marissa how restrained and temperate and noble he'd been. Maybe she'd buy it. Maybe she'd stop looking at Ryan for three seconds and look at Luke again.

Game plan in mind, he suffered through his Mom and Dad being unbearably cute in the foyer while his little brothers were their normal obnoxious selves, then invited Ryan up into his room, sat down at the computer, and blurted, "So, about this project. I've got some books, and I pulled some stuff off the net. Later we can go by my Dad's office and use his scanner. I figured we could put it together in a PowerPoint presentation using my PowerBook." Ryan looked at him, eyes huge, not saying a word. Damnit. Maybe Ryan wouldn't work with him after all. How was he supposed to impress Marissa if Ryan went off and did his own thing? "Unless you've got a better idea."

Ryan's eyebrows went up, and so did the corner of his mouth. Luke found himself weirdly fascinated by the expression; Ryan didn't usually say much, just watched everybody. This was the most expression Luke had ever seen on his face.

Well, except for the way he snarled right before he threw a punch. Luke remembered that really well.

"Okay," Ryan finally said. His voice was softer than Luke remembered. Of course, the only time Ryan ever talked to him was to yell at him right before he hit him, so maybe this would work out after all.

Two hours later they had the framework laid out for the project. Luke didn't say anything about it to Ryan, but privately he was impressed. Ryan was smart, a hell of a lot smarter than Luke expected, in some ways quicker than Luke himself was. It was a little intimidating, but in a way it was kind of comforting too. At least Marissa hadn't dumped him for a moron with a great body.

Luke stopped thinking, blinked at the notes he was writing, and ran his thoughts back again. No. He hadn't just thought that Ryan had a great body.

Then Ryan stretched across the desk to pick up a book, and Luke's eyes wandered from the ends of surprisingly long fingers down bulky, muscled arms to a broad shoulder, down well-defined abs under a thin tee shirt to the curve of Ryan's hip, snug up against the back of the seat, and Luke had to close his eyes.

Ryan didn't need to hit him. He'd hit himself. Hard. Over the head. A lot. No way he could be a queer. Really no way he could be a queer over Ryan Atwood.

"So, time to go to," he said suddenly, and Ryan froze again. Dark eyes narrowed, staring at him, reminding him of a wild animal, watching to see which way the hunter moved. It kind of freaked Luke out. Probably because he kind of liked it.

"Okay," Ryan answered slowly. He watched Luke out of the corner of his eye all the way to the car dealership. It was freaking Luke less out all the time, which was weird in its own way.

Happily by the time they got to the lot, Ryan seemed less tense. Luke relaxed in response. Once they were in the door, he showed Ryan a jet ski his dad was giving away in some kind of promotion, then made his way over to the newest model in the showroom. Hot red, convertible, black leather, a sound system that was a wet dream – he sat in the driver's seat and indulged in a fantasy or two.

"Get in, man," he invited, and with another one of those funny little half smiles Ryan sank into the passenger's seat. Luke cranked the stereo, then turned it down when he saw his dad coming up toward the door. Climbing out quickly he gestured for Ryan to follow him. "That's my dad now, and his business partner. Let's go say hi."

What he saw next froze him in his tracks. It was the weirdest thing. His dad and Gus stopped just inside the door. Their hands tangled up together then his dad lifted Gus's hand up to his mouth and… kissed it.

That would have been weird enough, but it didn't stop there. Luke felt his entire body turn to ice as he stood there and watched his dad and Gus holding on to one another… kissing each other.

Kissing each other.

The ice broke, and Luke moved. Out, away, gone, anywhere but there, but he tripped, dropped his books, notes fell everywhere, his knee whacked against the car and the alarm went off, and his dad was looking at him. He was saying something, coming toward them, and Luke panicked. He scrabbled for his stuff, hands colliding with Ryan who was scrabbling just as wildly.

"I swear to god if you say anything—"

"I won't."

Ryan's face was a few inches away from Luke's. His face was blank but his eyes were shocked, and for some reason Luke trusted him.

Seconds later they had everything they could grab and Luke ran for the door, Ryan right behind him. Luke could hear his dad's voice calling his name, but he didn't stop, couldn't stop. All he could think about was his dad. Kissing Gus.

The drive back to the Cohens' place was silent. Ryan looked at Luke but didn't say anything, and Luke was grateful in a distant kind of way. He drove away without looking back, but he could still feel Ryan's eyes burning into him, making his neck itch.

He didn't say anything to his mom when he got home. He powered up his computer and worked on the project for an hour or so, like a robot, going through the motions, thinking about anything except his dad. Finally he gave it up as a bad deal before he completely screwed it up, and threw himself on his bed.

Hours later, the door at the end of the hall slammed, and Luke knew his dad was home. He rolled over and looked at the clock. Two a.m. For a second he wondered what had taken his dad so long to finish up before he came home, then his brain, stupid brain, supplied him with vivid mental images of Gus and his dad kissing each other, only without clothes this time.

He only realized he was crying into his pillow when his nose clogged. Damn it. This was so… not good. His world was cracking and falling to pieces all around him and the one person who knew about it was the one person whose life he'd done his best to make miserable ever since he came down from Chino.

He didn't know when he fell asleep. It didn't last for long, and it was mainly nightmares, about his mom and his dad and Gus and people pointing at Luke at school and laughing. Then Ryan was there, and Ryan hit somebody other than Luke, and Luke hid behind him; then they weren't in school, but in the front seat of the convertible, and he was naked and Ryan was naked. Ryan was straddling him, and kissing him, and Luke couldn't move. Didn't want to move.

For the first time since he'd seen his dad kissing Gus that evening Luke wasn't cold anymore.

When he woke up he had come on his sheets, and that scared him more than anything else he'd seen in the weirdest two days of his life.

So he was vicious when he saw Ryan the next morning.

"We have to talk about—"

"We have nothing to talk about!" Luke cut him off. Calm dark eyes stared through him.

"The presentation," Ryan finished quietly.

Luke felt like an idiot, out of control, totally freaked out and trying not to show it. His friends were his friends, but they were also pack animals, quick to turn on anyone who wasn't one of their own. Luke had never been anything but one of the pack, and on top of everything else coming at him, he couldn't stand to lose them, too.

Ryan walked off, Sean at his back, and Luke snarled at him, calling him a queer. Cohen rolled his eyes and backed off. Luke wanted to hit something.

By second period, he knew that someone was Ryan. He knew he shouldn't have trusted Ryan. Everyone knew. Everyone.

Between classes, Ryan came up to him, Marissa following close behind. Luke wasn't up to this. He'd heard the whispers starting already, and he felt like he was going to explode. Ryan got close, too close, and said, "I didn't tell anyone."

Luke's hands bunched in Ryan's shirt, throwing him up against the lockers and leaning in close. Ryan was warm, so fucking warm, and way too close. Luke started to shake. "You are dead!" he yelled in Ryan's face, then pushed him away and took off before he did something really stupid. Like hit him.

Or kiss him.

The rest of the day was hell. Pure hell. People were looking at him, whispering, laughing. His friends were confused, at first, then suspicious, then they pulled away, and they whispered, too. It hurt, it was weird, it was wrong. It was all Ryan's fault.

And his dad's.

And Gus's.

He didn't want to go home that night, but he did. His mom was sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window. His dad wasn't there. His little brothers sat silently in the living room, staring at the TV.

"Hi, mom," he said quietly.

She looked up at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "Luke, honey, I have something I have to tell you. About your father." Her voice was hoarse.

"I know," he told her, sitting down beside her, dropping his backpack on the floor.

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry you had to find out that way! Somebody at school told you…"

The confusion was back, making Luke's brain feel fuzzy. "How did you find out, mom?"

"He told me," she said bitterly. "This morning. He told me… that he was… gay."

"He came out to you?" Luke was astonished, but weirdly relieved. If his dad told his mom himself, then maybe Ryan hadn't said anything. He had no idea why this made him feel better, but it did. Besides, if his mom didn't know that Luke had seen… what Luke had seen… Luke sure as hell wasn't going to tell her.

"Yes." She dropped her face into her hands and started to cry. "I had to talk to someone. I called Caryn, and Betsy was there, and now…"

So that was how everyone found out. Betsy was a worse gossip than Summer. Feeling helpless, and useless, Luke sat there, patted her hair, and wondered what would happen next.

It was a weird night, and a weirder next day. Luke didn't bother going to school. Neither did his brothers. They had Chinese take-out still in the cartons for dinner that night, something that never happened; his mom always insisted that ‘dinner is a proper meal and will be taken as such' so they always had the table set and ate off plates, not out of little paper boxes.

His mom didn't come down for dinner.

Neither did his dad.

Luke had never heard his mom yell so much. Never seen his dad cry. There were a lot of firsts in those two days. All of them bad.

After dinner his dad came down the staircase with a suitcase in one hand and a suit bag in the other. His eyes were red, too, but Luke couldn't look at him, past that first glance, because the need to hit someone was back, and there was no way he wanted to hit his dad. He didn't want to be in the same room with his dad, or even the same house. He just wanted it to all go away.

His dad tried to say something, but his mom got up and walked away. Luke started to follow, then changed course as the doorbell rang.

"Son," his dad said very softly, sounding choked. Luke ignored him.

Marissa was at the door. She looked so sad, and so concerned. Luke wanted to wrap himself around her and never let go.

Of course, she wouldn't go for that. But she did give him a hug. They went into the kitchen and sat down. From the other side of the house, they heard the muffled sound of Luke's mom, screaming. His dad answered so quietly they almost didn't hear him. Luke stared down at his hands, knotted together on the table top, and tried to block everything out but Marissa.

"Are you okay?" she asked, then added, "Stupid question. Sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

Luke nodded, then shook his head, then shrugged, before finally looking up at her. "I suppose Summer told you?"

She looked a little guilty, then shook her head. "No. Ryan didn't call me after your study session like he said he would, so I went over to wait for him. He was shaken up, and didn't want to tell me what happened, but I made him. He made me promise not to tell anyone else, and I didn't. He didn't tell anyone else, Luke, I know he didn't."

"Yeah," Luke agreed.

So Ryan had told someone, but at least Luke trusted Marissa, too, and knew she wouldn't have said anything to anybody. He was cold again. Marissa was too far away, and he didn't feel like he could reach out to her. He didn't know what else to say. So he didn't say anything.

He didn't know how long they sat there before the doorbell rang again.

"I'll get it," Marissa told him, sounding relieved and even more guilty. Luke closed his eyes and shook his head. This sucked. Unbelievably.

The sound of Ryan's voice at the front door brought Luke to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" Ryan asked. He didn't sound accusing, which was better than Luke would have been able to do in his place.

"The same thing you are, I imagine," Marissa answered him.

Luke looked around Marissa's shoulder. Ryan stared up at him.

"C'mon in," he invited. Ryan looked uncertain, but walked in, closing the door behind him. "I owe you an apology," Luke continued, needing to get this out, for once not even caring that Marissa was there to see it. "It was my mom. My dad… told her everything. She's the one who talked."

"Don't worry about it," Ryan told him, making it look easy, this acceptance and understanding that Luke always had to work at. For the first time, it didn't make Luke want to hit him.

Then Luke's mom came in the hall, barely holding back tears, and headed up the stairs. His dad came in right after her, calling, "Honey!" He looked over at Marissa, then at Ryan, and turned pale. Then he turned to Luke. "Son…"

Luke ran. Turned his back on his dad, and his mom, and all the stuff he couldn't handle, and slammed out the door.

He wandered around for awhile, avoiding anywhere there might be anyone who knew him. After a stop at a liquor store he knew didn't card, he had a liter of beer. The sun had set by the time he ended up at the soccer field, staring up at the lights through the mesh fence, drinking and trying not to think.

Halfway through the bottle, not doing so well with the not thinking, Marissa showed up.

Ryan was right behind her. Of course.

"My whole life is a lie," Luke told them.

Ryan settled on the bench, while Marissa hovered. The night got darker, the lights got fuzzier, the beer didn't do any better a job at making him not think.

They didn't say much. Marissa tried to make it better, telling him that going by her experience, it would be tough, but now that the lies are out of the way maybe he could finally be close with his dad.

Luke didn't know whether to cry, yell, or throw the bottle at her. Clenching his fist around the neck to keep from doing anything too stupid, he muttered, "I don't want to hear anything my dad has to say." He could practically feel her roll her eyes at him. She'd been spending too much time around Seth. "I'm going to get a jacket. I'm cold," she finally said, and walked away, leaving him there. With Ryan.

Weird, but not nearly as uncomfortable as Luke expected it to be. Maybe it was because of the beer, or the fact that Ryan kept his word, or the silence. Then Ryan started to talk, and even weirder, it was even better than the silence.

"Even if your dad lied to you, he still cared about you."

Ryan's voice fit the dark. It was still, and quiet, and low. Luke shook his head. All the times his dad hadn't been there, had missed a game or come in late at night, how much of it had been lies? He asked Ryan, but Ryan didn't lie, so Ryan didn't say anything. "It doesn't matter," Luke told him, sounding bitter even to himself.

"At least he came to some of them. It'd matter, if you had a dad who didn't care. Didn't go to your games. Didn't even know what teams you were on."

There was sad experience in Ryan's words, even if his voice was matter-of-fact. Luke glanced down at him and saw Ryan looking up at him from the corner of his eye.

Yeah. Okay. Maybe it did matter.

Before he had a chance to say anything, even if he didn't have a clue what it would be, a couple assholes from their main rival school came up and called them butt pirates.

Finally. A chance to hit somebody.

Luke was around the fence and on the field before the jerk stopped talking. A hard jolt, a couple more insults, then the asshole's buddy came up and started in on them. Luke looked at Ryan. Ryan looked back.

Oh, yeah.

They swung at the same time, a satisfying crack of fist against face, he and Ryan moving like they were choreographed. Both the jerks ended up on their knees, moaning like little girls. Luke smirked down at Ryan and got one of those half-grins in return. It felt good.

Then he looked away and saw the rest of the varsity team coming at them, and Luke gulped. Beside him, Ryan tensed.

The next half hour was pretty fuzzy in Luke's memory. There must have been a dozen of them, and they were really pissed off, but Luke was a fighter, and (no surprise there) Ryan kicked ass. The last thing Luke remembered of the fight, two guys had him pinned while a third one punched him in the head. Then the guys went flying off, he heard a couple screams, some thuds, and Ryan was helping him to his feet. Marissa was there, and in the distance he could hear cars coming, and the guys who'd attacked them were running and limping away.

He didn't want to go home. So Ryan took him back to the Cohens'. Mr. Cohen wanted to call his parents but Luke asked him not to. Mrs. Cohen brought over a first aid kit, and he bit his lip so he didn't yelp when she washed out the cuts. Ryan sat next to him, Marissa hovering over them again, as Mrs. Cohen cleaned them both up.

"Do I want to know what happened?" she asked as she pressed a bandage gently against his skin. He looked over at Ryan, who was looking fixedly at his shoes. Shit. He'd gotten Ryan in trouble. That bothered him.

"My fault," Luke said abruptly. Ryan glanced over at him, then back down to his shoes. "Some guys from Roosevelt came over and started hassling me… about my dad." His voice broke. He swallowed against unexpected tears, and had to stop talking in order to fight them. Ryan spoke softly beside him.

"There were a bunch of them. Came looking for Luke, looking for a fight." He sighed.

So did Mr. Cohen, who'd come back from the kitchen. "Self defense, right?" He didn't sound mad, more resigned than anything. Luke looked between Mr. Cohen and Ryan. Ryan's shoulders were hunched.

"They'd've really hurt me badly if Ryan hadn't helped me out," Luke forced out. "It was their whole team, looked like, and they were out for blood."

"Looks like they got what they were looking for, then," Mrs. Cohen grumbled, but her hands were gentle as she put a bandage above Ryan's eye.

"I'm sorry," Ryan practically whispered.

"I'm not," Luke told him directly. "You saved my ass back there!" A cleared throat reminded him there were parents in the room. "Um, sorry, Mrs. Cohen, Mr. Cohen," he mumbled, blushing.

Mr. Cohen grinned at him. Before he could say anything, Luke recognized the sound of his dad's car in the driveway. Instantly, he panicked, jumping up and slipping past Mrs. Cohen, racing for the stairs.

"He's been doing that a lot lately," Marissa said behind him.

Yeah, maybe he had, but he just wasn't up to facing his dad. Not now. Maybe not ever. Not when everything the man ever told him was a lie.

Luke took refuge in the guest bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and tried to settle on the bed, but he was too wired, even bruised up as he was. He got back up and wandered over to the window, staring out blindly.

Down in the living room they were still talking, then the door opened and light spilled out on the front porch. Luke watched from the window as Marissa led Ryan out to the front walk, watched as they talked, standing close together. Marissa moved first, reaching out to Ryan, pulling his head down. Kissing him.

It was disturbing. Partly because, for a second, the way they touched each other reminded Luke disconcertingly of the way his dad and Gus touched each other. Partly because it shouldn't be anybody kissing Marissa but Luke.

But mainly because he couldn't figure out who he was more jealous of – Ryan… or... Marissa.

A knock on the door made him turn away from the window. Mr. Cohen stuck his head in the door.

"Luke, your dad's here."

"I can't…" His voice dried up and he coughed before he could talk again. Mr. Cohen waited patiently. His eyes were very kind. Luke felt tears sting again and shook his head violently. "I don't want to talk to him. Please."

Mr. Cohen nodded, then closed the door behind him. Luke waited until he heard the footsteps leave the stairs, then snuck out after him, not quite sure why. Sneaking up to the doorway, he kept out of sight and listened. His dad was talking. He sounded rough, like he'd been crying. A lot.

"I love my wife. I always have." He sounded like he meant it. Sounded defeated, totally unlike his dad. "I love my family, too, and I didn't want to hurt anyone. I think the best thing for me to do is… go away. Disappear."

"No, it isn't!" Mr. Cohen sounded upset, but not at his dad. For his dad. Luke inched closer. "That's what you've been doing all along! Coming out in this town is the bravest thing you could have done."

There was a silence, and Luke chanced a quick glance around the corner. His dad looked the way he'd sounded, exhausted and defeated. Luke thought about what his dad had said, and what Ryan said earlier, and came to a decision.

"I think I should go," his dad said.

Luke stepped out into the living room. His dad froze, staring at him.

"I'll go with you. Just let me get my shoes."

They didn't talk much on the way home. When they pulled up in the driveway, his dad said, "I'm sorry."

Luke looked over at him. "It's going to be hard."

"I know." He started to say he was sorry again, but Luke cut him off.

"It's going to be okay." He didn't know if it was or not, but his dad needed to hear somebody say that. Luke wanted his dad to hear it from him. His dad's mouth trembled, but he didn't cry.

"I hope so," his dad said, and reached out to touch Luke's shoulder. He stopped before it actually landed, though. Luke went with instinct, too tired, too hurt and too confused to do anything else, and hugged his dad.

His dad was still sitting there, looking shocked, when Luke got out of the car and went into the house.

His mom was already asleep, probably with the help of pills, and his brothers were in bed. Luke went to his room as quietly as he could, and settled in for another round of nightmares.

It didn't quite work out that way. Or maybe they were nightmares, and his life had gotten so weird he didn't know the difference between a nightmare and a wet dream. Because once again, he was at school. People were whispering. Pointing. Laughing at him. He was naked, this time, and there were words written all over his body. Words he'd used as insults, words he'd thrown at other guys to cut them down. Words that applied to his dad.

Words that applied to him.

But there, again, was Ryan. Not saying anything. Just watching, eyes following him, mouth curled up in that little half smile. And the words didn't hurt, when Ryan looked at him.

Hurt even less when suddenly, they weren't at school anymore, but in the Cohen's pool house lying on the bed, and he was underneath Ryan, and Ryan was tracing the words with his fingers. Then with his tongue. And the words disappeared.

Sank into him. Became part of him. Until they didn't cut, didn't burn. Didn't show.

On the outside, anyway.

It got really confused then, images and sounds and feelings tangled up, memories and fantasies all wound up together. The look in Ryan's eyes when he apologized for tackling Luke during soccer practice melted into the way he looked in the shadows under the lights telling Luke he was lucky to have a dad who cared about him, then faded into an intense look as Ryan licked the last of the hateful words from Luke's skin.

The strength in Ryan's hand and the gentleness of his voice as he clamped down on Luke's arm after he was shot, telling him it was going to be all right, staying with him all the way through to the hospital, shifted to the rumble of Ryan's voice low in his ear as Ryan nuzzled the side of his neck and the strength of Ryan's arms around him, holding him together when he otherwise would have fallen apart. It didn't feel weird at all. It felt right.

Then Ryan kissed him, and Luke kissed him back, and he woke up.

The sheets were wet. Again.

He barely had time to shove them in the hamper and dress for school. He met Marissa, and Ryan of course, and Seth, at the front steps. Without saying anything, they fell into step. Ryan stood next to him, a lot like he had in Luke's dreams, and it should have bothered him, but it made him feel better, instead, which was so weird he refused to think about it.

The walk through the quad was as bad as Luke expected. People looked, and pointed, and whispered. Friends turned their backs on him. Luke stopped, and the other three stopped beside him, staring back at those who were staring at them.

"This is weird," he said. "Maybe I should just blow it off for today. Wait until the talk dies down."

"It doesn't work like that," Marissa told him glumly.

"It's been months," Ryan said, his stare turning into a glare as he watched half the soccer team turn around and walk the other way. "And I'm still the kid from Chino who burned a house down."

"I'm still the girl who tried to kill herself in Mexico," Marissa added.

"And I'm still…" Seth sighed. "I'm still Seth Cohen." That said it all, really.

"This is going to suck," Luke said gloomily.

"Welcome to my world," Seth told him, then dropped his skateboard and took off.

Summer came up, watching Seth until he disappeared into the crowd. "Hey," she said to Luke and Ryan, looking uncertain.

"Hey," Ryan answered. Luke didn't know what to say.

"C'mon, Coop," Summer said, tugging Marissa's wrist. Marissa gave Luke a sympathetic smile, warming to something sweeter when she looked at Ryan. The way she used to smile at Luke.

As he walked to the science building, Ryan pacing him silently, Luke decided that, weird as it was, he really didn't mind.

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