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Once again, I couldn't find what I wanted and so decided to write it myself. Instead, I wrote this POS. An experiment with present tense. That probably failed.
Title: Untitled Bondage Oneshot With Fluff. (Huh...o.O)
Fandom: The O.C.
Pairing: Seth/Ryan (yes, in that order...)
Rating: NC-17 (*snort* eventually. The first 1500ish words are pretty pornless)
Warnings: AU, Established Relationship, Bondage (xD), tongue/belly button smut, anal, bj, angst, schmoop, etc...
Author: ashleigh_lin
Summary: Seth's tired of Ryan being so in control.
Authors Notes: I wanted Seth/Ryan. I wanted hot, dirty, savage Seth/Ryan smut without, you know, plot. Turns out that's pretty hard to find. 'Course, I was kinda expecting it to be difficult, what with Ryan having the whole brooding top thing down pat. Which is why I think his submitting would be, like, the sexiest thing ever. My inner Seth thinks so too. Anyway, the point is that I looked high and low (fanfiction.net-low, actually. *shudder*) and couldn't find what I wanted anywhere. So I decided to write it myself. This piece of epic failure appeared instead, which is not really that dirty, or savage, or...well, I'll leave it up to you to decide whether it's hot. The point is, it's Not a PWP, which is what I was aiming for. There is smut, however. Story takes place at an indeterminate time and place in an alternate reality. Presumably sometime after 2006 because, much to my chagrin, I reference "Sexyback" by Justin Timberlake.
Disclaimer: I don't own The O.C. or any characters, plots, etc. affiliated with the program.
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It's not that he doesn't like it, because he does. It's not even that he feels his masculinity is threatened, because he doesn't. He just...
He just thinks that it must be unhealthy for someone to be that in control all the time.
He understands, or likes to think he does, the motive behind the behavior. He gets that Ryan has been fate's bitch since he was born and that to Ryan, survival has always been controlling what he could when he could.
But Seth isn't anything like fate. He doesn't want to make Ryan his bitch. He just wants...
He just wants to make Ryan feel as good as Ryan makes him feel. And to do that, he has to somehow tame Ryan's need to be, like, Master of his Space, or whatever. Which is a lot easier said than done because Ryan is hella strong and could probably take Seth with one hand. Has in fact, taken Seth with one hand, both that way and not that way.
Pause to shiver. Right. Done.
Anyway, Seth just has to figure out how to restrain his...restrain his...
Restrain him.
Bingo.
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"No."
"But Ryan--"
"No way." He's shaking his head now, and Seth is starting to think this might be harder than he originally thought.
"Why not?" He asks, though he's pretty sure he knows the answer. He just needs to kill time until he figures out an effective way to talk his boyfriend into letting him tie him up. That is, letting Seth tie him up. In bed. Okay, probably that image is not the most conducive to figuring. Two words in his defense: Horny and Teenager.
Ryan is staring at him, one eyebrow raised in that way, and Seth wants to lick it. Seth has never wanted to lick an eyebrow before and spends a moment marveling over this new sensation before snapping out of it. "Pardon?" he croaks.
"Would you let me tie you up?" Ryan asks, possibly again.
"Yes," Seth says immediately, and all these images are clearly trying to short circuit his brain. "Yes, vehemently," he amends after a second of thought.
Ryan looks like he somehow wasn't expecting that answer. Pft. Seth is a confirmed Trysexual--he'll try anything once. And some times twice just to make sure.
Then, inspiration strikes and Seth has to work very, very hard to hide his glee. He's so busy keeping his expression free of any signs of smugness that he is unable to spare any guilt for his imminent manipulativeness. Making his eyes as wide as possible, and attempting to inject a measure of hurt he asks, "Don't you trust me?"
He can practically see Ryan deflate, and okay, there's the guilt. Seth really hates it when other people try to manipulate Ryan by using his innate need to make the people around him happy against him. He feels like a first class hypocrite and nothing, not even his desire, is enough to allow him to let Ryan believe he questions his feelings. Any of them. "Dude, forget it. Stupid question. Of course you trust me. It's just a thing. I get it. I'm scared of, like, everything, and you're scared of being tied up. I think you're still ahead," Seth rushes out, not exactly sure what he's babbling but knowing he has to extract his foot from his throat post haste.
"I'm not scared." Ryan denies. "I just don't want to. I don't like--" he cuts himself off sharply, as if he's revealing too much. Sometimes Seth has to work very hard to not take Ryan's neuroses personally. He thinks he's failing right now. He doesn't have to fake being hurt this time.
"Don't like what? Being out of control? Letting someone else have power over you? Me? What is it?"
"I don't--"
"Do you think I didn't know what I was asking? Because I did. I do. Control is to you is as the blanky was to Linus and I'm sorry if you do not like that analogy, but it fits better than anything else I could think up on the spot. The point is, Linus never gave up his security blanket and look what that got him--he's probably old and decrepit and rocks back and forth clutching a dry-rotted piece of blue cloth."
Ryan looks wary, and also like he doesn't know what to say. Finally, "Linus gave up his blanket once to Snoopy. It didn't go well. Snoopy wouldn't give the security blanket back when Linus really needed it," he says intently, and Seth doesn't think they're talking about Peanuts at all.
"Yeah, well, Snoopy wasn't Linus' best friend. It probably would have gone better if he'd given the blanket to Charlie Brown. Charlie would have been able to tell when Linus needed it and when he was just being a baby."
Ryan smiles at that. "You think so?" It might have been Seth's imagination, but he thought Ryan's voice cracked on the last word.
"Dude, I know so. Charlie Brown was a geek, but he was a freaking amazing friend. The kind of friend who would definitely not take advantage of his friend's vulnerability. In a bad way, I mean."
"Yeah?" Ryan steps forward, and their mouths are almost touching. Very distracting.
"Yeah. I don't think Linus would mind if he took advantage in a good way." That mouth is going to eventually drive him crazy.
"I think this analogy's gone too far,"
"I think so too."
"Okay."
Seth is blanking out. Seth knows he is blanking out, but that mouth is so close, and he almost whines. He's one hundredth of a millimeter away from forgetting what it is he wants. One hundredth of a millimeter away from heaven in the form of lips and teeth and tongue. He can smell Ryan's breath, sweet because he always brushes after he eats..."What? 'Okay' what?" He manages to hold himself back with a supreme effort, not quite remembering what they had been discussing. Something about blankets, he thinks.
"Okay. Do it."
Seth blinks. Seth does not remember remember what Ryan is consenting to because Ryan this close wipes every other thought from his head. Then he does remember, and he closes the minuscule distance and he's kissing Ryan, and God, finally he thinks, because he needs to keep up a running commentary even when his mouth is occupied. Ryan is against him everywhere, and it feels so good, and he cannot believe Ryan is letting him, actually letting him, Seth, tie him up, and he thinks he may blow right there, because the thought is so sexy.
"Okay," he says, when they come apart for air, and he knows his voice breaks, but so what.
They stand there for a moment, neither quite certain what to do. "You might want to, um, take your shirt off." Seth suggests at last. He doesn't know why he feels so awkward all of a sudden, but he does.
Ryan must be feeling the same. His face is coloring, and he mumbles, "Oh, yeah," and brings the tee-shirt up over his head in one smooth movement. No wife-beater, or else it came off with the tee. Seth, as usual, thinks that it should be a crime for his boyfriend to ever wear a shirt. In fact, he thinks he may write to his congressman to ask him to introduce a bill making it a Class A felony for Ryan Atwood to ever cover his upper body. It'd be called something appropriate, but not too racy, like "Sexy Front and Back Bill." Or something.
Ryan is just standing there, looking nervous and vulnerable and oh-so-edible. Now Seth wants to bite him, though not on his eyebrow. Maybe a nipple. Or that spot behind his ear that sometimes makes him shudder if Seth can sneak up on him and get it just right. "You want to, uh, lay down?" he asks, and is proud that his voice is mostly steady, if not quite as confident as he wishes.
Ryan lays down on their bed, and it is almost Seth's undoing when he reaches up above and grasps the brass rungs of the new headboard. "You look like some kind of pagan sacrifice," he blurts out. Ryan laughs a genuine Ryan-laugh, and just like that, much of the uncomfortable tension evaporates. Seth knows it's going to be fine because they're Seth and Ryan and they're always fine, even when they're getting into trouble, or in over their heads, or surrounded by the water polo team, which is just another way of saying in trouble and in over their heads.
"So how are we gonna do this?" Ryan asks. "Last I knew neither of us kept a pair of handcuffs around..."
"Oh! Yeah. I mean no. Not cuffs. I, uh, kinda... well..." Instead of trying to explain--he thinks he might die of embarrassment if he has to--he crosses to the closet and pulls out the bag containing the items that he had purchased for a ridiculous sum of money. Ryan sits up and is looking at the bag curiously and Seth dumps the contents onto the bed before him. The other boy picks up the two black silk scarves, absently rubbing one between his thumb and forefinger.
"Soft," he comments in a voice little above a whisper.
"Yeah, I thought they might...I wanted to make you as comfortable as possible."
Ryan doesn't say anything, but he looks touched and possibly a bit afraid. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and he lies back mutely, taking up his position from before. "Do it." he says, echoing his previous consent.
Seth stretches up over him, kisses him softly, chastely; then not so softly or chastely, as he can never seem to control himself when it comes to Ryan. He's fumbling, and he lifts his head regretfully, because he is not coordinated enough to kiss Ryan and tie a decent knot. He isn't sure anyone is.
If sailing since before he could walk has taught him anything, it's how to tie a knot. He ties the scarf around the rung first, so Ryan's wrist will be surrounded by fabric--making it more comfortable and more secure. "How's that?" he asks when he finishes. Ryan nods, but doesn't say anything. "Try to pull your hand out." Ryan tugs once; then again more firmly. Yeah, his hand's aren't going anywhere. "It's not too tight?" The blond head shakes mutely. Seth is beginning to understand that Ryan doesn't feel like talking right then, and is on the verge of calling the whole thing off out of concern. He doesn't want to push his boyfriend too far, after all.
"Do the other one," Ryan orders, voice sounding tight. Seth smiles at the wall, where the other boy can't see it. He mostly schools his features by the time he's done with the other scarf, and before he quite knows what he's going to do (and thus before Ryan knows what he's going to do) he ducks down and bites that spot he was thinking of earlier--the one behind Ryan's ear that sometimes makes him shudder--and this time it makes him gasp, and his hips buck up into Seth's, and he was not expecting him to be that hard. He was, in fact, anticipating having to make the other 'rise to the occasion' so to speak.
Seth, being his brilliantly articulate self, sits up and says accusingly, "You're hard!"
Ryan is panting. Seth doesn't think he's ever seen Ryan actually pant before. He breathes hard when he exercises and during sex, but he doesn't pant. "You're panting," he says just to spread around the stupid a little more. Thank you Captain Obvious, he thinks at himself, then thinks that that sounds like a superhero name, but who would want a dumb power like that? He's watching his prey with fascination: the shallow, stuttering breaths; the pebbled nipples; the dick that feels like it could cut through diamonds, or at least through those jeans... he feels like he's missing something here. "You're aroused," he says softly, almost to himself then he grins wickedly. "You like this!"
Ryan is squirming and blushing and not looking at Seth. Yes, definitely not looking at Seth. He doesn't deny the allegations, however he does makes a noise in his throat that might be a growl or might be a whimper. "You suck," he manages to retort.
Seth leans down and kisses him again, hard, giddy with the knowledge that Ryan likes this, and he is so never gonna let him forget it. "Not yet," he denies with a lascivious eyebrow-bob, which kind of makes Ryan look like he wants to bite them. Only not in a pleasant, "hurts so good" way. More in an "I'm gonna rip your face off piece by piece" way.
Seth, however, is acutely aware that he's been on top of Ryan for, oh, six minutes or so without doing anything. Which, really, is six minutes longer than he should have been not doing anything. Seth wants to kiss him, but Ryan still looks vaguely glare-y, so Seth avoids anywhere with teeth and leans down to kiss the pale gold chest. Other than a tiny patch that feels more like peach fuzz than hair, Ryan is completely smooth. Seth would feel bitter that he didn't know this before, but it's hard to be bitter when he's in the midst of a fantasy come to life. He trails his tongue across his partner's nicely defined pectorals, right to one of Ryan's more obvious erogenous zones. He takes turns sucking and nipping until Ryan is writhing under him, threatening to buck Seth off the bed.
Seth backs off for a bit, moving up to suck up a hickey on Ryan's throat. He doesn't get to do this very often; usually Ryan has him disoriented with pleasure before he knows what's hit him. He has to admit it feels nice to be on the other side of things. Eventually he moves away and attacks the other unsuspecting nipple, taking Ryan by surprise and finally eliciting a moan from the stubbornly silent blond.
Ryan moves sharply down the bed, gaining a good bit of distance but stretching his arms in a way that doesn't look very comfortable. Apparently, it still isn't far enough for what he has in mind. "Seth, Seth!"
"What? What is it?" Seth is five seconds from panicking because he's never heard Ryan sound so desperate before.
"Kiss me," he demands. Seth laughs in relief and obliges. He is not used to being the aggressor in this area either, not with Ryan, and is mildly surprised when the other's tongue does not immediately invade his mouth. Instead it darts in and out, like it's coaxing Seth's to come and play. And he does, and finds it's almost like kissing a girl, except not because this is Ryan, and even when he's submitting there is nothing girly about Ryan.
Seth thinks he would like to go on kissing forever, but the situation in his pants is rapidly reaching critical. So he scoots down the bed again, forcibly ignoring the whine of loss his partner emits when he retreats. It turns into another moan when Seth reaches down and grasps his cock through the jeans. He kneads at the hard flesh as he kisses and explores his way down his lover's torso, making small discoveries as he goes. He spends a bit of time at tiny mole he finds near the top of his left set of ribs; spends a little more at a scar on the right set, kissing it tenderly before he moves on.
When he gets to the navel he hovers, waits until Ryan opens his eyes to see what's going on then slowly dips his tongue inside. He feels the muscles flex under his mouth, trying to get away because this belly button is both ticklish and unbearably sensitive. The body beneath him is quivering and Seth lets go of Ryan's dick to concentrate fully. Ryan's hips move like they want to follow, but then Seth's tongue is darting in and out in a lewd parody of sex, and Ryan is still watching the entire display. Then he jerks his head back sharply and his whole body is undulating. "S-st-ha-op. S-seth, stop, I'm--"
And Seth does because he knows, and he doesn't want this to be over like that. He pulls away and sits up, allows Ryan to back away from the edge. He's still breathing hard, but doesn't look quite so wild when Seth reaches down and pulls his own shirt over his head, then reaches down and slowly and deliberately unfastens the bound boy's jeans, Ryan's breath hitching noticeably whenever Seth brushes his cock through the fabric. The jeans are tugged off, followed by the designer boxers Ryan had taken to wearing. Seth admires the completely naked view for long moments, before Ryan begins shifting restlessly. Seth catches the blush on his face, but doesn't remark on it. He's a little overwhelmed by the amount of faith Ryan is showing by allowing him to do this. He knows in his gut that he would never have let anyone else; not Marissa, not Theresa, not any of his old flames. But he's letting Seth, and that humbles him as it warms him.
Seth feels he is on the verge of blurting out something totally unfortunate, like how beautiful he thinks Ryan is, or how much he, God, loves him. Or he might just go for total humiliation and start crying. Instead he takes the route with less chance of embarrassment, leans over and sucks down the waiting cock for all that he's worth. He still hasn't quite got the hang of the whole instant deep-throat thing, but what he lacks in talent he makes up for in enthusiasm, and Ryan is definitely not complaining. Seth takes a deep breath, steadies the base with his hand and inches slowly down, careful of his teeth, careful not to aggravate his gag reflex, careful to make this as fine a blow job as he is capable of. He reaches his fist, saliva already leaking from his mouth, slicking the soft-hard flesh, and he thinks he should find it gross but he doesn't. He can't because up above him, Ryan is singing a symphony of bitten off moans, sobbing gasps, and keening whines, and anything that can do that to him could never be called "gross."
He takes away his fist, takes in one more deep breath, twists his head to the right angle and goes down, down, down until his nose touches course dark-blond hair and he's swallowing around Ryan's cock. Ryan, who has been remarkably still up to this point, apparently loses whatever superhuman force of will that allowed him to remain so and his hips flex up, once, twice, before Seth's flailing arms get enough leverage to hold them down. He comes up, gasps, then goes down again, sucking the whole time and swallowing when he gets to the base. Ryan is chanting, a broken litany of "SethSethSethSethSeth." Seth repeats the pattern, making a "hmm"-ing noise around the head the fourth time he backs off and Ryan Loses It. Seth feels him go rigid and his mouth is flooded with salty and bitter and Ryan. When the other's hips still Seth releases them, lifting his head and vaguely admiring the imprints his fingers made on the tan skin. He hopes they bruise.
He feels somewhat drained, though the insistent throbbing of his cock reminds him that he hasn't even come yet. He looks up at Ryan who is laying back, eyes closed, completely relaxed, or so it seems. Seth crawls up his body, intending to untie the scarves, but when he reaches out toward one, he hears "Don't," quietly from beneath him. He looks down at his captive quizzically.
"Huh?" he attempts to question because, yeah, master rhetor at your service.
Ryan doesn't answer verbally, but he does look down his body meaningfully. He spreads his legs wider, so that Seth drops further between them and lifts his hips, grinding against Seth's erection. Seth's mind temporarily blanks at the fission of heat that sends through his body, thinking somewhere in the depths of his mind. Yes. Frottage is good.
"Seth,"
Seth opens his eyes, which he doesn't even remember closing. Ryan is waiting patiently, staring staring at him, obviously attempting to communicate some obscure message, but hell if Seth knows what it is. "Seth," he repeats, this time laced with frustration, and lifts his hips again, and Seth's clothed dick slides down right between his..his eyes widen when he finally gets it.
"You want me to...?" He can't even say it. It's more than he ever even dreamed of expecting.
Ryan nods, once, biting his bottom lip and looking up at Seth through his eyelashes, and God, he's never wanted anyone or anything more in his life: Not Summer, not Anna, not the first edition of X-Men Volume One. He thinks about asking if Ryan's sure, but he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, Ryan wouldn't have asked if he didn't want it.
"What--where do--? Right, nightstand, duh," Seth reaches over and grabs from the drawer a line of condoms and the bottle of lube, and tosses them onto the bed. Ryan is watching him. Nervousness flits across his face, but he's mostly interested.
"Does it...when I do it, does it hurt?" he asks as Seth tries to get his rubber-band hands to undo the button on his jeans. The pressure on his groin is torture.
Seth's eyes cross when he processes the question. "Hmm, nuh-uh. It feels amazing." He gets the damn jeans undone and shucks them and his boxers in one go.
"Just, um..."
"Don't worry." Seth is dizzy with elation, but he finds it in him to smile reassuringly at the amazingly brave person under him. "It's my turn to take care of you," he says, and doesn't wonder for very long if he sounded like a schmuck.
First he tears open the condom wrapper, because their first time they'd had one hell of a time getting it open with both of their hands covered in lube. Ryan didn't even have hands this time. Usable ones, anyway.
Seth coats his fingers in the viscous substance, hands trembling slightly. Ryan knows, probably from watching Seth, that it's easier if he holds his breath so he does and Seth pushes the first finger in. Ryan is gritting his teeth, but he nods when Seth catches his eye. Before long, Seth adds the second finger, and eagerly hooks them both, looking for that place that makes this so good. He knows it's called a prostate, but he thinks that's a much too ugly and clinical word for something that can make someone feel so incredibly awesome.
"Oh, God," Ryan gasps and bends his legs so he can use them to thrust down on Seth's hand.
"Incredible," Seth breathes in wonder. And it is. Watching Ryan trying to impale himself on his fingers is one of the most erotic things Seth has ever seen. When he's sure that Ryan's ready, he removes his hand so he can roll the condom on with shaky hands. He gets into position and pulls Ryans legs up around his ribs. "I--" he begins, but Ryan silences him by reaching up for a kiss. Seth gasps when they separate, positions himself with one hand, uses the other for leverage as he thrusts, finally, home. It's better than anything he's ever felt, and against his will, his hips move forward again and he's completely buried in Ryan's body.
"Jesus Christ," he explodes, and it's not a prayer, it's an expletive, the way he sometimes hears his dad use it when he's startled or suddenly pissed off. Seth is startled, but he is most certainly not pissed off. He feels like he's blacked out. He can't see, can't hear, he can only feel. Sight and sound come back by increments and he becomes aware of chanting, like before, and at first he thinks Ryan is saying his name again. But he isn't saying "Seth," this time, the taller boy realizes, he's saying "off" and twisting his hands as much as he can at the same time. He looks wild. Seth, afraid he might hurt himself in his desperation, exerts a massive amount of effort to keep from moving any further. Ryan is so tense in his distress that it's almost painful. His hips remain stationary and he reaches up to untie the scarves. Unbelievably, he's able to do it with one hand and when Ryan is free, his arms come around Seth, his face gets buried in Seth's neck, and Seth is very sorry but he has to move.
Ryan does not try to stop him, he just holds on and soon he's thrusting against Seth in perfect rhythm to Seth thrusting against him and it's good, so good, most definitely better than anything else in the whole world, with the tight and the hot and the pulsing. He knows he hits the Good Place more than a few times, because those are the times that Ryan's fingers gouge his back and his breath leaves him on a sob.
Eventually thoughts other than "in, out, in, out" leak through to Seth's sex-crazed brain, and he realizes he's not going to last. Ryan is clinging to him, still with the neck ostrich thing, but when Seth gets his hand wedged between them and touches his cock, his back bows outward, he bites Seth's shoulder savagely and his body tenses so tightly, especially around Seth's own erection, that he doesn't have a chance in hell of holding out and he comes inside Ryan with a few more shuddering thrusts.
He collapses on top of his best friend/lover/the best boyfriend ever, and stays there until their heartbeats slow and their breathing evens out. Common sense takes over and he carefully removes himself from the other's body and the condom, ties it up and tosses it in the vicinity of the trash. He hopes it didn't land in the path to the bathroom. That would be a nasty surprise. Ew. Ryan rolls over immediately and buries his face in a pillow. Seth frowns and narrows his eyes.
"Dude, where's my pillow talk? My cuddling?" he tries to joke. No reaction. He drapes himself over Ryan's back and blows on his ear. He's not surprised by this reaction, but he regrets it nonetheless. Well, so much for any hopes he might have been entertaining about getting to do it again without restraints. "Ry? Talk to me, okay? I'll turn Lover-Seth off and just be Best Friend-Seth, if you want. We can watch heterosexual porn and pretend you're talking about a girl. A dominant girl. With a strap on. A dominatrix. Ryan!" Seth pulls out the big guns and bites down sharply on the behind-the-ear-spot.
Ryan jumps and finally turns to glare at Seth. Seth becomes serious. "Come on, Ryan. Please say something. If you don't want to do it ever again, that's fine. It's just not for some people and I totally understand that. We might have some problems if you decide you want to convert to a bottom, though. I'm not built to do the hard work all the time."
Ryan snorts and rolls them over. Seth is on his back and Ryan is curled up to his side, head pillowed on his chest. He touches the bite mark that is already purpling on the opposite shoulder. "Sorry for this,"
"S'fine, man. Battle wounds and stuff. Chicks dig it." Ryan slaps him half heartedly. "Hey! Wounded here. I get no sympathy," he grouses playfully. It's quiet for a while. Seth figures Ryan's gone to sleep and he's two seconds from following.
"No scarves next time." he hears slurred from his chest. He feels a drop of drool but can't be bothered to be grossed out.
Seth smiles and kisses the top of the disheveled blond head where he can reach without moving too much. "No scarves next time," he agrees.
Ryan murmurs something against his skin, and then he's gone, eased to sleep quickly by post-coital exhaustion.
"Love you too," Seth mumbles sleepily. The smile doesn't fade, even when he's deep in sleep.
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There! It's done. It's not what I meant to write, but I think I'm happy with it anyway. I welcome Con-Crit and feedback, as always. Flamers welcome only if they bring marshmallows and sticks to toast them on.
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