
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/342164.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_OC, Time_Traveler's_Wife_-_Audrey_Niffenegger
  Relationship:
      Seth_Cohen/Seth_Cohen
  Character:
      Seth_Cohen
  Additional Tags:
      Crack
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-02-18 Words: 2471
****** Seth is 15, and 15 ******
by missdeviant
Notes
     By now, I&#x2019;ve pressured a small handful of people on my flist
     to read Audrey Niffenegger&#x2019;s The Time Traveler&#x2019;s Wife.
     This is for them.
     more specifically, for shoshannagold, who provided sage guidance, and
     torchthisnow, who wouldn't write it for me.
     &#xA0;
     If you haven't read The Time Traveler's Wife, some of this narrative
     may seem confusing. That's okay. Crossovers are risky because of
     that: familiarity with one bit of base material is necessary, but
     familiarity with both (or all) bits is optimal.
     The rules and specifics of time-traveling when applied to Henry (and
     therefore Seth) can be further explained by reading the novel. Which
     you should. Right the fuck now.
     Henry never had "memoirs," nor could Seth have read them at 15;
     Niffenegger's book was not published until 2003. In fact, the two
     timelines of our time travelers are wildly askew. But it's my
     crack!fic. I can write what I want to.
     &#xA0;
     Disclaimer: Concept thoroughly stolen from The Time Traveler's Wife,
     property of Audrey Niffenegger. Boys property of Joshie, McG, FOX, et
     al. Don't sue. How else would I buy my crack?
     *


I&#x2019;m in my bedroom with my self. He&#x2019;s here from next March. We are
doing what we often do when we have a little privacy, when it&#x2019;s cold
out, when both of us are past puberty and haven&#x2019;t quite gotten around to
actual girls yet. I think most people would do this, if they had the sort of
opportunities I have. I mean, I&#x2019;m not gay or anything.
--&#x201C;The Time Traveler&#x2019;s Wife,&#x201D; p. 55
&#xA0;
&#xA0;
Seth is in his bedroom with his self. This would be odd to most other people on
the planet, but Seth has gotten used to it. Being a chrono-displaced person had
its downsides, such as the nudity and the nausea and the random disappearing
before important life events, but Seth certainly appreciated the company it
offered him.
Even if the company was, well, unorthodox.
Then again, Seth supposed that all time travelers lived a bit of a quirky life.
That guy Henry, for one, the one with the memoirs and the wife. Seth
hadn&#x2019;t been saddled with quite the same responsibilities and hardships
as him. He hadn&#x2019;t had to learn how to steal, or pick locks, or do much
besides borrow from the clotheslines of Newport residents who insisted that
their maids dry things to be sunshine-fresh, real sunshine, not the bottled
kind. Truth be told, when it came to his condition, most days he felt just a
little bit more Marvel than mortal.
No complaints, there.
Of course, just his luck, his ability to time travel didn&#x2019;t come with
any other cool superpowers, like x-ray vision or flight or being able to pass
for 17 so he could get in to see The Matrix in IMAX. He didn&#x2019;t get an
adamantium skeleton, and he wasn&#x2019;t suddenly super-attractive to all the
ladies, like Spiderman or Batman or Gambit. The older he grew, the more it
seemed that his path was going to be all mopey X-men teendom. Without the
spandex.
Seth&#x2019;s future self never told him anything interesting, either, like
lottery numbers and stock tips (with his parents, he didn&#x2019;t need them,
he&#x2019;d been lectured) or if he&#x2019;d ever lose his virginity, to like,
a girl (a fact that was looking more and more unlikely). In fact, his future
self after the age of sixteen seemed to avoid him entirely, for the lack of
times Seth had seen him. He did a lot of time traveling at fifteen. Mostly to
visit himself and supply answers for vocabulary tests, and to warn him when
Luke was going to be in a bad mood. But when it came to his older self, it
seemed like he&#x2019;d turned sixteen and *whap*, no more time traveling.
Seth tried not to be morbid when it came to thinking of what that meant for his
future. Or non-future. Fortunately, he had a few threads to cling to.&#xA0;
Once, when Seth was thirteen, his self showed up with a deep, even tan and
flecks of blonde in his hair, with the beginnings of chest hair and muscles and
Seth knew for sure he was from farther into the future than fifteen, just like
he knew he&#x2019;d spend the next Friday night jerking off to tapes of Buffy
the Vampire Slayer and La Femme Nikita. And the Friday after that. And the
Friday after that.&#xA0;
&#x201C;Dude, sailing to Tahiti is way overrated,&#x201D; future Seth mumbled
unhappily, scratching at his hair, and looked mildly surprised when his fingers
pulled away clean and dry.&#xA0;
That was an advantage to time traveling no one else really talked about.
Showering really became unnecessary, if you could manage to time travel often
enough. All the dirt was just left behind. Well, along with the clothes, and
socks, and shoes, and anything that wasn&#x2019;t a part of his body. But, hey,
there were always hazards, and Southern California never got that cold anyway.
That particular future Seth had vanished as quickly as he&#x2019;d appeared
with an audible crack, not even asking for the date, and Seth was left
wondering about Tahiti, filing it away into his brain for future reference,
right between the codes for classic Nintendo games and which bushes provided
the best cover from approaching water polo players.&#xA0;
His self never tells him anything good, leaving Seth to puzzle out the clues on
his own.
*
Currently, Seth is being visited by a self from next Thursday, which he is
dreading because he has a pre-calc quiz with Mr. Schmidt and his mole, and the
fact that his other self doesn&#x2019;t look too happy about the outcome
isn&#x2019;t encouraging him.
What is encouraging him is the way his self is lying on his bed, beckoning with
a sure finger.&#xA0;
Seth is always confident when he is around himself, something he wishes he
could manage in public forums. It makes things easier, in ways that they never
have been all the times he&#x2019;s almost gone up to Summer to say hi, only to
pivot on a Puma at the last second. With himself, he always knows what he
wants, and he can always get himself off.&#xA0;
Seth figures that most people would do what he did, if they had the kind of
opportunities he did. It didn&#x2019;t mean he was gay or anything.&#xA0;
Despite what the water polo team said.
Seth sits on the bed next to himself, who is already conveniently naked because
of his travels. He shucks off his own t-shirt quickly, without nerves, as his
self leans in to unbutton the top of Seth&#x2019;s jeans, trailing his mouth
over Seth&#x2019;s collarbone.
Seth remembers the first time his self taught him how to kiss, and the second
time, when he was the teacher. Sometimes it&#x2019;s strange, living things
from two points of view; always waiting for the second half to happen. But
then, he amends, it&#x2019;s no stranger than jerking yourself off in your bed
in the middle of the night.&#xA0;
Seth&#x2019;s self has made short work of Seth&#x2019;s jeans and is palming
Seth&#x2019;s ass over the fabric of his boxers. He pulls Seth downward, onto
the comforter, and rolls on top of Seth, straddling his hips. Seth examines his
naked self, the smooth hairless stomach and growing erection, somehow comforted
to know that it is the same as the one that is straining his boxers.&#xA0;
His self seems to know what Seth needs, of course, he always knows what Seth
needs, and slides Seth&#x2019;s boxers off slowly, deliberately, making
Seth&#x2019;s heart thump in his eardrums.
It&#x2019;s not that he finds himself attractive or anything. It&#x2019;s
just&#x2026;his own hand is so much less interesting than, uh, his hand.&#xA0;
Seth still hasn&#x2019;t found a good way to think of the situation.
He prefers not to think, anyway. Not when his self has gripped a thumb and
forefinger around the base of Seth&#x2019;s cock. His self leans over until all
Seth can see is the top of his own brown curls, all he can feel is a puff of
warm breath on his groin. A tongue darts out, over the tip, swirling, as the
hand at the base of his dick gives a short stroke. Seth groans and scrabbles
for his body, the one on top of him, lacing one hand in the curly brown hair as
the other grips a shoulder.
Seth&#x2019;s panting and whining now as his self dips and takes more of his
cock into his mouth, and even though Seth knows that he doesn&#x2019;t have to
impress himself with his longevity, he still tries to hold on a minute
longer.&#xA0;
The Seth on top of him lifts his head and Seth looks at the overly red lips,
his own heavy lidded eyes, before his self scratches a trail down Seth&#x2019;s
chest with his fingernails, closes his mouth over Seth&#x2019;s cock again with
heavenly suction, and runs his tongue in a smooth circle.
Seth squeezes his self&#x2019;s shoulder in warning, and his self pulls up,
replaces his mouth with his hand, and finishes Seth off with a few quick
strokes. Seth shudders and comes all over his self&#x2019;s hand and his
stomach, then licks the perspiration off his own upper lip.
They have an agreement, sort of like how medieval churches had sanctuary from
crazy royal guards, or other unspoken holy things. The only thing he
won&#x2019;t do is come in his other self&#x2019;s mouth.&#xA0;
Seth&#x2019;s self&#x2019;s torso stretches as he leans over and slides open a
drawer on Seth&#x2019;s bed stand, pulling out a used-looking hand towel with
fringe at the edges. His self passes it to the prone Seth, and he wipes off the
sweat on his forehead before cleaning up his abdomen.&#xA0;
Seth takes care of his self after that, getting to his knees as his self
stretches back across the pillows. His own breath is still quick and erratic
after the blowjob, and he breathes a silent sigh of relief when his self comes
quickly, with little effort. It was a pity, really, that he wasn&#x2019;t gay,
what with all the practice he&#x2019;d had. He hoped that this boded well for
his future with girls. Summer, more specifically.&#xA0;
Somehow, convincing himself of that was getting harder with each passing day.
&#x201C;How much longer do you have?&#x201D; Seth asks himself as they both lay
back on his bed, panting and staring up at the blank white ceiling.
Seth&#x2019;s self frowns resignedly, as if gauging the matter. Which he
probably is, Seth knows, having been in the situation enough to know.
&#x201C;Not long enough for a second time.&#x201D; His self smoothes a hand
through his mussed hair, and Seth absentmindedly mimics him.
&#x201C;You sure about that?&#x201D; Seth asks himself, disentangling his hand
from his hair, and pulls himself in for a kiss.
Three minutes later, his self is gone with a jerk and a groan, and
Seth&#x2019;s still hard. He bites his lip and thrusts quickly into the circle
of his hand, thinking of Summer and breathing heavily as he comes for the
second time that night. Or third. He&#x2019;s not sure.
It takes all his effort to roll over and find the towel on the floor where his
self threw it between the piles of comics and dirty clothes and the lasagna-
encrusted dinner dishes that Rosa hasn&#x2019;t picked up yet. As he pulls
himself back onto his pillows with an exhausted sigh, Seth wishes he had
himself back, just for a minute, just for one last favor.
He never liked doing things alone.&#xA0;
*
Seth wakes up the next morning to a loud crash that sounds like it comes from
the kitchen and runs downstairs, hoping his self from next Thursday is back, or
better yet, next Friday.&#xA0;
Probably less exhausted that way.&#xA0;
Instead, he sees a tall, slim built naked man perched on one of the stools at
the end of the counter. The man&#x2019;s curly brown hair is short and neatly
kept, and Seth nearly staggers backwards. Seth pegs this self at mid-twenties,
but he&#x2019;s never been good with ages. It had taken him years after moving
to Newport to figure out that Julie Cooper was Marissa&#x2019;s mom, and not
just the young, hot nanny.&#xA0;
&#x201C;Um, yeah, this is new.&#x201D; Seth speaks and his self looks up from
the newspaper (Arts and Leisure section, of course) with a vague grin.
&#x201C;You&#x2019;re like, old. Not that you&#x2019;re old, I mean,
you&#x2019;re very, uh, well-preserved.&#x201D;
&#x201C;Pants?&#x201D; the older Seth asks evenly. Wow, he really became
concise when he got older. He wonders when that happened.
Seth nods dumbly and wanders back up to his bedroom, taking note that both his
parents appear to have already left for work. So, wow, that&#x2019;s what he
looked like when he got older. The waterpolo team obviously hadn&#x2019;t
managed to murder him after all.&#xA0;
At the same time, he can&#x2019;t help but be a little sad, wishing that one of
his younger selves had come back. Not even for the sex, although the sex was
good like a good thing, many good things. But just&#x2026;for the friendship.
The Seth that was sitting in the kitchen calmly reading the paper didn&#x2019;t
look like the guy who&#x2019;d been stuffed into lockers with shoes full of
pee. For a moment, Seth wonders if there was such a thing as an alternate
universe, and if there was, if this Seth had come from that universe, where he
was cool and had friends and was having sex with Summer on a regular
basis.&#xA0;
After all, he was a time traveler. Nothing was out of the question.
It was probably too much to wish for, though. He supposes that he
doesn&#x2019;t have it too badly. At least he gets to have sex with him self
&#xA0;on a regular basis.
Seth combs through the piles of clothes on the floor, looking under frayed
jeans and Converse sneakers, hoping to find something that would both fit his
older self and that wasn&#x2019;t too damaged by the activities of the night
before. He settles on a pair of drawstring pajama pants, figuring even if
they&#x2019;re short, they should do in a pinch. After all, he remembers
vaguely a pink slip he&#x2019;d found hanging on a clothesline on one harrowing
trip, he&#x2019;d had worse.
By the time he stumbles back down the stairs, his self has already helped
himself to the pot of French Roast that Rosa always keeps brewing under the
cabinets. In fact, there are two oversized cups waiting on the Cohen&#x2019;s
marble counter. Seth scratches his head thoughtfully and gestures at the mugs,
then his self.&#xA0;
&#x201C;Thirsty, huh? I mean, time traveling always makes me thirsty too, but
more for a, uh, Capri Sun or some Ecto-Cooler.&#x201D; Seth rubs his palms on
his thighs before handing himself the pants, which his self slides on almost
without getting out of his seat.&#xA0;
&#x201C;So, uh, can&#x2019;t you tell me something about myself? You know, you.
Or, uh, me. Us. Because I&#x2019;m sort of dying here man, in case you
didn&#x2019;t remember, but, uh, of course you remember, unless time traveling
turns out to have a bad short term memory side effect, like with that guy
in&#xA0; Memento &#xA0;and wow, that would suck...&#x201D;
&#x201C;Coffee.&#x201D; The taller, cooler Seth interrupts, sliding over a mug.
&#x201C;You&#x2019;re going to start liking it.&#x201D;
&#x201C;I am?&#x201D; Seth manages to sputter out.
&#x201C;Trust me.&#x201D; His self winks at him before taking a long gulp of
steaming coffee. &#x201C;It gets better.&#x201D;
&#x201C;My life or the coffee?&#x201D; Seth grimaces as he takes a slurping
sip.
&#x201C;Both.&#x201D; Seth&#x2019;s self winks again, leans over Seth&#x2019;s
shoulder, getting in close to his ear. &#x201C;Ryan.&#x201D; He whispers, and
Seth shudders.
Then, the feel of the hand and breath are gone, and a wrinkled and slightly
warm pair of plaid pajama pants falls onto the floor.
Ryan?
It didn&#x2019;t sound like a stock tip, but it would have to do.
--finis--





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