Title: Seth's Lament

Author: Shell

Homepage: (see profile)

Disclaimer: Not mine and all that jazz.

A/N: My first trip into the O.C-verse. I got inspired by all those brilliant O.C writers on and produced this mediocre drabble. Nothing else to say but: Enjoy!

Ryan was straight.

Was and is. There's no doubt about it. There was no point in arguing that fact, it was about as hopeless as arguing whose reversion to their super alter-egos were more convenient, Superman's or Wonder Woman's, appeal of either's costume non-withstanding.

And Seth had tried. He'd even been given that look that Seth had dubbed the 'come hither' look once or twice. Once or twice rays of hope had shone in the gardens of Seth's homosexuality. Or something less corny. In any event, it turned out that Ryan's 'come hither' look was his 'shut up' look, his 'pass the milk' look and his 'hey, you're a person' look, so Seth just saved himself the trouble of switching its name every twenty seconds and just called it Ryan.

"Hey, Ryan," he would say, and the look would oblige him by appearing on his owner's beautiful face.

Seth decided the expression would be a he, because making it a she would compromise the owner's masculinity. Ignoring, of course, the fact that Seth just called him beautiful.

But that was the problem. He couldn't ignore Ryan's beauty. It was just there. He wanted to capture it, keep it in a little box nowhere near Marissa and take it out and play with it whenever he chose. Ryan was art, and Seth wanted to paint him. And he would, were it not for that time in second grade when Thomas Mcnaugh dared him to put a paint brush up his nostril, then politely shoved it up the rest of the way. The doctor said if he'd lost another half-pint of blood he'd be a very sorry little boy.

The smell of horse hair and blood still haunts him today.

But that's beside the point. The wretched, unarguable point of Ryan's lack of presence near any kind of closet. His lack of any position at the fudge-packing factory. His stubborn reluctance to just become gay and reign with Seth as queen and queen on top of the main float at the gay pride parade. Because Seth would give up heterosexuality for Ryan.

He'd tell the love of his life 'no' just to run his fingers through Ryan's hair, he'd ask Anna if they could just be friends for just one taste of Ryan's... anything. Skin, lips, teeth, tongue, fingernails, anything. He'd get on his knees and worship Ryan's feet, only if it meant just one small taste...

But he could live without it. No, seriously, he could. Shut up, he so could. If he wanted to. But Seth doesn't want to stop loving Ryan, because seeing him and loving him simultaneously is the most wonderful thing that's he's every felt. Better than Spiderman Issue #048, better than Grand Theft Auto, better than sailing. Because none of those things have left him in a terminal wet spot and numerous secret trips to the laundry. None of those things make him ache and yearn and pine and need, and the only justification he can think of is none of those things are Ryan and it just isn't good enough because he shouldn't be feeling this way. He shouldn't want Ryan so desperately. But he does, and with that comes the knowledge that Ryan could never love him back.

Because Ryan is straight.

Fin.