Here and there
by M. F. Luder
for beingothrwrldly
Here...
There are times when it feels like it is too much. Tonight, Ryan realizes, is one of them.
Papers are scattered around his desk, book on top of book in one of the corners. He has two notebooks open, one his and the other a friend of his who has already passed the subject.
Ryan sighs, running a hand through his hair, habit he has taken from Seth. It's past midnight, going on one, and he is not close to being done than he was five hours ago.
This shouldn't take so long, Ryan thinks, staring down at the notebook. And this crap should make sense, too. Only it doesn't, and he's been trying to come up with a plausible explanation for that. Five hours in, and nothing to show for.
Expect tiredness around him and Seth waiting for him in the bedroom. And isn't this just a little bit too stupid, to be here, studying, when Seth's in the bed, barely boxers on, waiting for him.
Ryan groans, hands moving to his hair as he hangs his head forward. Strength of Materials is not a subject easily passed, that's common knowledge. If he were to flunk it, no one would think twice about it. Statistics say that more students flunk the subject than they pass it the first semester taken.
And yes, he could flunk it, might even, with the grades he has so far and the percentage of understanding of the subject. But he won't. He can't. Kirsten never flunked subject. Sandy only flunked one, so Ryan is saving his opportunity for later one, when subjects are really too much for him to manage. Not that SM is actually manageable.
Another groan and a shake of his head. He's so screwed. He doesn't get this, not at all. He doesn't know why they need to use the Mohr Circle, or even find the Effort or Deflection of a beam. Aren't beams supposed not to deflect? Isn't that the whole point?
He's about to give up on the subject because nothing should be this difficult when hands are placed on his shoulder, massaging slowly but with pressure. Ryan lets out a long sigh, relaxing visibly, leaning his head to the left.
"You're dying here, dude."
Ryan snorts. "Tell me something I don't know."
"The bed is cold without you."
He smiles, turning to look over his shoulder. Seth smiles back, leaning forward, taking Ryan's lips in his. "I love you," Ryan whispers.
Seth grins against the kiss. "I know but dude, really, all this studying? So not romantic."
Ryan chuckles. "Yeah, well, who said SM was romantic?"
"Not me, obviously." Seth sighs, arms going around Ryan's chest and he rests his chin on Ryan's shoulder. "You've given this thing five hours of studying. How much more to go?"
"Really? I have no idea. I don't get this," Ryan says, pushing his notebook away with disgust.
Seth grins, kissing Ryan's shoulder blade. A small shudder is his answer and Seth is proud of the reaction.
"Why don't we--"
Ryan shakes his head, though doesn't push Seth away. "I have to finis this."
"I know."
"Seth."
"Hmm..." Seth places a trail of kisses up to Ryan's jaw before kissing him on the lips. "Yeah, studying, I know."
"You should try it," Ryan says with a chuckle. "You might actually like it."
Seth laughs, his breath tingling Ryan's neck and Ryan can't help but shudder at the feeling.
If only Strength wasn't so long, so hard...
"I like sleeping until noon, thank you very much."
Ryan turns around on his seat, placing his arms around Seth's waist. He rests his cheek against Seth's chest, hearing the steady beating of his heart for a moment. Somehow, it relaxes him.
Seth starts running his fingers through Ryan's hair, making Ryan smile. They don't say anything for a minute before Ryan tightness his hold on Seth's waist. "I have to..."
Seth nods, letting his hand fall to his side and smiles at Ryan. "Don't take too long. I'm too used to you, dude, I can't sleep alone."
Ryan knows. The feeling is mutual. "I won't."
With one last kiss, Seth turns around and walks back to the bedroom.
Even shifting to second, it takes Ryan another hour before he can actually understand the meaning of the Mohr circle and its uses.
When he finally crawls into bed, Seth is lying on side, eyes closed, but still awake.
Ryan kisses Seth's shoulder, the base of his neck, and up to the hollow of his throat. They are too tired to do anything but sleep, so Ryan takes Seth's hand in his and places them on Seth's stomach.
Seth smiles, and Ryan can feel the smile even in the darkness of the room. Seth looks over his shoulder and kisses Ryan, leaning back against Ryan's chest. They close their eyes, breath, and sleep.
for kissingchaos9
... and there
Seth believes that careers aren't chosen. It's more like they chose people.
He knows English chose him because Seth doesn't like to study much, or take math and physics courses. He knows that if he had wanted to be an engineer (he so wouldn't, but still), like Ryan, he would have died in the process.
Not that it's easy for Ryan because, no, it isn't. Ryan spends half the semester staying up late, catching up on studying that seems to run faster than Ryan can study.
And though it's not nice to have to stay up late reading, or just laying on the bed while his boyfriend is in the small room they turned into a study, forcing his way through books two inches thick, Seth can handle it. Even the effort classes need is different.
Seth can skip one Literature 101 so he can have early lunch with Ryan and not miss much.
He can arrive late at Article and Essay workshop and only have to push his muses a little bit harder to finish the writing on time. But Ryan can't miss Construction Materials, or Strength of Materials Lab. And though it's not fun to have to take United States Literature and British Literature, it's way better Thermodynamics. Seth still doesn't know what exactly thermodynamics is.
So, yes, English chose him. And he's happy with that. Though, at times like this? Not so much.
He sighs, twirling the pen around in one finger (though he doesn't need it, he likes having a pen at hand), staring down at the blinking cursor in his laptop, blank page waiting to be filled.
Article and Essay rocks. He can handle it. Drama is quite easy to write, if he does say so himself. For Fiction he just needs to think futuristic, George Lucas and Tolkien. Now, Poetry? That's another thing. Poetry, he can't handle.
Poetry means passion and love and things that, though he knows he feels, he doesn't exactly know how to put into words. Poetry is like going into a contest against Neruda and Seth knows he'd make a fool of himself for even trying such a thing.
He shakes his head, leaning forward and resting his forehead against the surface of his desk. "I can't do it." He groans. "Why poetry? It's not like I'm gonna write poetry for a living, you know? I'm not. I swear to God, I'm not. So, yeah, dude, please, anything but this."
"Talking to yourself again?"
Seth turns his head to the side, cheek now pressed onto the wooden surface. "I hate this."
Ryan chuckles, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the side of the threshold. "No, you don't."
"Yes, I do. Why do I have to study? I'm too pretty to study. I have my trust fund. Dude, it kicks in three years. We can live with my trust fund."
Ryan gives Seth a small smile, pushing himself off the threshold and making his way to Seth's side. "You're just tired."
"I'm frustrated."
"Poetry again?"
Seth nods as Ryan leans over, arms around Seth's chest and kisses the base of Seth's neck. Seth shudders.
"No playing," Ryan says as Seth tries to turn around to kiss him. "You have work to do."
"No, I don't."
"When is it due?"
"Ryan!"
The whining doesn't shake Ryan's conviction. "When?"
A low sigh as Ryan kisses Seth's cheek. "Tomorrow."
"You always leave things for the last minute, don't you?"
"This paper hates me."
Ryan chuckles, pulling away. He pushes one of Seth's books away and he hops onto the desk. "It doesn't."
"Yes, it does." Seth pouts and Ryan leans over to kiss it away. "It hates me."
"This for your workshop?"
Seth nods, picking at a strand of Ryan's jeans. "Fiction is due next week and I'm almost done with it. Why can't this be as easy as fiction?"
Ryan smiles, toeing off his shoes. "What did you write for fiction?"
"I found out my parents weren't my parents, but my uncles and that I was a cyborg in love with a human." Seth beamed, grinning up at Ryan. "You're a pretty human."
Ryan chuckles, nodding as he does so. He moved his right leg over Seth's seat, feet resting on the edges of the chair, on either side of Seth.
Seth tilts his head. "Ryan?"
Ryan smirks, placing his hands on the backrest of the chair. His balance is rather poor, but he doesn't care. "Maybe," he whispers in Seth's head, head tilted and voice low, "all you need is inspiration."
He leans over and kisses Seth, deeply and slowly, and it reminds Ryan of their first kiss, on Seth's bed, not even a year ago. Slow and intimate. Seth's hands move to Ryan's face, thumb caressing Ryan's cheek. Ryan smiles against the kiss, the clumsiness they had both felt in that first kiss long gone.
Seth nibbles Ryan's lower lip and Ryan lick the corner of Seth's mouth. The kiss doesn't go further, both knowing there are things to get done this afternoon. Ryan pulls away, chuckling slightly, ducking his head. He can still feel the tingle of Seth's lips on his.
"I have a SM lab to get done," he says, lowering his legs from the chair before hopping down from the desk. "One hour, Seth."
Seth nods almost idly, eyes following Ryan as he walks out of the study. Reaching the door, Ryan turns around and winks at Seth. Seth bites down his lower lip. One hour. Three thousand words in one hour. Well, he can do that.
Ryan's probably at the computer already, Ryan's laptop (his parents' present, two Chrismukkahs ago) open in the small living room area, hands typing away so he can be done in one hour as well.
And then? Well, then it's all bed and sheets, isn't it? Seth nods to himself once again, turning around and staring down at the screen. He can imagine Ryan, lying down on the bed, nothing on, waiting for him. He can imagine blond hair being pushed away from Ryan's forehead by his own hand. He can imagine kissing soft full lips. He can imagine Ryan moaning.
Seth smirks, inspiration driving his fingers as they type, hurriedly, needing to write one word after another. Seth can imagine Ryan, waiting for him, everyday, for the rest of his life. And isn't that poetry worth.
Finished: December 17th, 2004.