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the_water_clockAuthor: Clio
Title: Goodbye, Mr. Seacrest, or, To Simon, with Love: Rymon Missing Scenes from the Fast Times at Idol High 80s AU
Pairing: Ryan/Simon
Rating: PG
Summary: Where the chaperones were when the fight broke out at prom—and what happened after.
Length: 1800 words
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, clearly, as Simon doesn't wear ties under any circumstances.
Notes: Fast Times at Idol High,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lillijulianne's 80s high school AU, can be read by friending stepintomyocean.
Special thanks to Juli for writing this awesome AU, letting me be a part of it, encouraging me get my teacher kink on, and of course being an amazing beta. Oh, and for writing Ryan and Simon into her story in the first place. And in this chapter, for working her fashion mojo on the tux pics, which got some special help fromali_wildgoose.
Prologue: September 1981 | 1: September 1984 | 2: October 1984 | 3: November 1984 | 4: December 1984 | 5: January 1985 | 6: February 1985 | 7: March 1985 | 8: April 1985
may 1985
Generally at prom, because of the sit-down dinner, the chaperones eat at their own table in the back of the room while all the kids eat. They're serving the cake, and Simon wants to take a break to get a smoke. Ryan, of course, wants to get as far from the cake as possible; he has no desire to find out how Simon would react to his returning to his not-so-girlish pre-middleschool figure. Randy is avoiding sweets, too, so the three of them head outside, leaving the ladies who promise to find them if there's any trouble. But with Blake Lewis not attending (Ryan meant to ask Ace if Blake bought a ticket at all, but it's been a month and Ryan's had a lot of distractions) none of them anticipate much out of the ordinary. Besides, as prom advisor—Simon won't shut up about how girly this is, but Ryan doesn't care; it's his last prom and he's damned if it's going to be a tacky mess—he's been in that ballroom all day and he's sick of looking at it, however nicely it came out.
So they're outside, Simon smoking, and Randy asks, "C'mon, man, when're you gonna put in the resignation?"
Simon looks around, sees no teens, says, "Last day of classes."
"What? Really?"
"Ryan is paranoid his house will be egged when people find out."
"I'd like to be on my way out of town," Ryan says. "And no trouble at commencement."
"We don't need a send-off from the students," Simon adds.
"Well—" Randy starts, but then the ballroom goes into a strange, muttery hush. "Uh-oh."
The three walk back through a little anteroom into the hallway, Simon first, but then he stops, and holds Randy back. "Wait," he says.
Ryan stands listening to Blake lay out almost every bit of rumor and hubbub Ryan has ever heard about the smarter set, and even some he hasn't—he and Simon clearly aren't the only ones whose pillow talk consists mostly of gossip—and the first thing he thinks, which he admits to Simon later, is "My god, put a hat on him and he's Alexis." Which just proves that Ryan definitely has one foot out the door.
Maroulis telegraphs his punch from somewhere in Europe, and Simon holds Randy back more firmly; Ryan thinks he's the only one who knows how strong Simon truly is. The boys scuffle, Blake holding his own better than many might have predicted, and maybe Simon isn't the only tiny strongman in the room. Sabrina and Paula and Mrs. Jones are shouting ineffectively, and Ryan mostly hopes they'll be sensible enough to stay out of the way though you never know with Paula. Finally Blake throws a metal vase into the mirror, a bizarre statement that he must have picked up from some music video or another, and runs out of the room. Then, and only then, does Simon let Randy go.
"What the hell, Cowell?" Randy says as they run across the ballroom to the door Blake had taken.
"It had to happen," Simon says, shrugging even as he jogs.
Ryan lets them go, lets the manager catch up to him, does the official tap dance that Simon detests, gets a flashlight. Gina is next to him by then, saying, "Oh my God, Mr. Seacrest, I didn't know," and he says, "I know," and they head outside for what Ryan secretly hopes will be a completely fruitless search.
It doesn't take the staff long to clean up the overturned tables and sweep up the broken glass. Ryan pitches in with the ladies to clean cake and punch off of new gowns and rented jackets with dark napkins dipped in cold club soda, while Randy and Simon have taken Maroulis off to who-knows-where. Ryan signals to Ace to get the band playing again, and the singer says can you hear them? they talk about us, telling lies, well, that's no surprise and Ryan can't decide if that was a supremely horrible or sublimely perfect choice on their part. There's more dancing, many slowly forgetting what's happened if only to preserve their prom-perfect romance moment. Ryan sees Paula light up when Randy asks her to dance, then watches Brandon and Ace move their dates around the room such that they're almost always in each other's sight, and wonders if it's on purpose or if they're just that connected. He wonders, too, if it really is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Then Simon comes in, and he decides that the choice is ridiculous. It's definitely better to just love.
They have to clear up the room that very night, because there's an overflow early-mother's day brunch in the room the next day. Simon and Randy have gone out with the police after arranging with the hotel for the damages. Ryan has no idea where the money will come from, as the deposit isn't going to cover a 10'x10' mirror, and he can't imagine that Lythgoe would bother. Ayla is outraged at the entire goings-on, but Ayla is always outraged about something, and it will give her a good story for her freshman year roommates, so Ryan doesn't worry about that. Ace seems a little pale, and Ryan makes a mental note to say something to him at some point in some way, because college isn't this town, and his life isn't this town, something that Brandon already knows—he has other obstacles—and Blake takes for granted. But for Ace and Chris, it's harder, in a way that Ryan understands.
Simon turns back up about an hour later with Randy, sees that the room is pretty well clean; the kids are starting to drift off to whatever underground party they've gained access to. The three of them walk out, Ryan and Simon promising to come by for waffles the next day.
In the hotel lot, Ryan is confused to see that his car is gone. "What—"
"I drove your car to the police station, and Randy came with me to drop it off at your house. I need a drive, and I may as well take you with me."
Ryan gets into the BMW, makes sure his seatbelt is secure, watches Simon mess with the radar detector. Simon pulls out of the lot, drives at the edge of the speed limit to the turn onto the highway, and past the speed trap just outside of town. Then he floors it, and Ryan's stomach comes up in his throat as Simon pushes the needle past 100mph. Simon is a ridiculously excellent driver; he likes going to European driving schools on his vacations, and Ryan sat in a similar BMW one summer as Simon played Pole Position on the Autobahn, so he isn't actually afraid, except for what this means about Simon's mood.
Simon turns around at the state line, and they drive back, stopping at the new Chik-Fil-A at the Exit 7 rest stop to get sandwiches and sweet tea. It's after 2am now, and Simon has finally lost the wired look he'd had earlier. He plays with a fry, looks around at the empty room and the absent staff, and then feeds it to Ryan.
"Home?" Ryan asks, and Simon nods.
As they walk out to the car he says, "I promise to drive more sanely on the way back."
"You can do whatever you want, darlin'," Ryan says. "But roll down a window, because it's getting stuffy."
"You're sure you don't mind messing up your hair?"
Ryan shrugs. "You're going to mess it up later anyway," he says. "And seriously, when we buy a new car it's going to have air conditioning." He flicks on the radio, where a deep voice is clearly very excited about GMAC financing for a new truck at "MaROUlis Motors!"
"Oh God," Simon said. "I'm glad we drive European cars."
A song starts, familiar piano chords, and Ryan sinks down into the seat.
Simon starts laughing, and turns up the radio: you walk right in the door, just like you did before, and wrap my heart around your little finger.
"Shut UP, Simon," Ryan says, and he can feel the flush in his cheeks.
Simon is singing along now, between chuckles: all you gotta do is smile that smile and there go all my defenses
"I never should have told you," Ryan mutters.
"Why not?" Simon asks. "It's very sweet, that it makes you think of me."
"Made," Ryan says.
"Oh, favorite line," he says, and sings along: looking better than a body has a right to
"If you don't stop I'll never give you a blow job again," Ryan says. But it's hopeless, and the song's ending anyway. Ryan decides since it got Simon back to himself a bit, maybe it's worth a little pride lost.
At home, Ryan checks the messages, but there's only Randy, saying that Blake has been found by his cousin, is home safe, and Mrs. Lewis refuses to let the cops into her house. Simon, who's collapsed onto the couch, says, "Good for her."
"Yeah," Ryan says, slipping off his tasseled evening loafers. He and Simon both own their tuxes, of course, classic lines that fit like a glove, and even sprawled out, one leg on the coffee table, tie loosened, Simon's sexier than anything Ryan has ever seen.
Simon rubs a hand over his eyes. "Well, that was horrid."
"Like you said, it had to happen," Ryan says. He pulls the ottoman over near the couch and sits down, putting a hand on Simon's thigh.
"But the high melodrama, surely we might have avoided that."
Ryan says nothing, just watches.
Simon sighs, and looks at Ryan. "Are we abandoning these people?"
"No," Ryan says. "I thought about that, before I agreed to go with you, and no. We're showing them that there's something else. We're showing them the way out, that they don't have to come back to this town if they don't want to, that there's more out there. Someone showed me that, once, and I got out."
Simon nods. "God, I'm so tired."
"C'mon darlin'," Ryan says, standing and extending his hand. "Let's go upstairs."
Simon rises, and Ryan pulls him close, letting Simon put his full weight on him. They stand clinging to each other until finally they climb the stairs, Simon's head still on Ryan's shoulder. In the bedroom, Ryan reminds Simon that as much as he wants to take care of everyone around him, he needs taking care of, too, and Ryan obliges.
10: June 1985
Notes:
Nowadays, neither Simon nor Ryan would wear a double-breasted suit; they're far too short. But in the 80s everyone was wearing them, and the tuxes were very traditional. After the anything-goes 70s, the 80s were all about a return to classic "glamour" for formal wear, which you could see in the overblown girl's dresses that had more to do with wedding dresses than cocktail dresses.
Pole Position was a most excellent early Atari car race game and the short hand among my friends for driving as fast as possible and passing everyone you come up behind.
And I just want to note that "Here You Come Again" made me think of Simon long before Dolly Parton week, but that you all probably recognized the song never hurts!
Title: Goodbye, Mr. Seacrest, or, To Simon, with Love: Rymon Missing Scenes from the Fast Times at Idol High 80s AU
Pairing: Ryan/Simon
Rating: PG
Summary: Where the chaperones were when the fight broke out at prom—and what happened after.
Length: 1800 words
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, clearly, as Simon doesn't wear ties under any circumstances.
Notes: Fast Times at Idol High,
lillijulianne's 80s high school AU, can be read by friending stepintomyocean.Special thanks to Juli for writing this awesome AU, letting me be a part of it, encouraging me get my teacher kink on, and of course being an amazing beta. Oh, and for writing Ryan and Simon into her story in the first place. And in this chapter, for working her fashion mojo on the tux pics, which got some special help from
ali_wildgoose.Prologue: September 1981 | 1: September 1984 | 2: October 1984 | 3: November 1984 | 4: December 1984 | 5: January 1985 | 6: February 1985 | 7: March 1985 | 8: April 1985
may 1985
Generally at prom, because of the sit-down dinner, the chaperones eat at their own table in the back of the room while all the kids eat. They're serving the cake, and Simon wants to take a break to get a smoke. Ryan, of course, wants to get as far from the cake as possible; he has no desire to find out how Simon would react to his returning to his not-so-girlish pre-middleschool figure. Randy is avoiding sweets, too, so the three of them head outside, leaving the ladies who promise to find them if there's any trouble. But with Blake Lewis not attending (Ryan meant to ask Ace if Blake bought a ticket at all, but it's been a month and Ryan's had a lot of distractions) none of them anticipate much out of the ordinary. Besides, as prom advisor—Simon won't shut up about how girly this is, but Ryan doesn't care; it's his last prom and he's damned if it's going to be a tacky mess—he's been in that ballroom all day and he's sick of looking at it, however nicely it came out.
So they're outside, Simon smoking, and Randy asks, "C'mon, man, when're you gonna put in the resignation?"
Simon looks around, sees no teens, says, "Last day of classes."
"What? Really?"
"Ryan is paranoid his house will be egged when people find out."
"I'd like to be on my way out of town," Ryan says. "And no trouble at commencement."
"We don't need a send-off from the students," Simon adds.
"Well—" Randy starts, but then the ballroom goes into a strange, muttery hush. "Uh-oh."
The three walk back through a little anteroom into the hallway, Simon first, but then he stops, and holds Randy back. "Wait," he says.
Ryan stands listening to Blake lay out almost every bit of rumor and hubbub Ryan has ever heard about the smarter set, and even some he hasn't—he and Simon clearly aren't the only ones whose pillow talk consists mostly of gossip—and the first thing he thinks, which he admits to Simon later, is "My god, put a hat on him and he's Alexis." Which just proves that Ryan definitely has one foot out the door.
Maroulis telegraphs his punch from somewhere in Europe, and Simon holds Randy back more firmly; Ryan thinks he's the only one who knows how strong Simon truly is. The boys scuffle, Blake holding his own better than many might have predicted, and maybe Simon isn't the only tiny strongman in the room. Sabrina and Paula and Mrs. Jones are shouting ineffectively, and Ryan mostly hopes they'll be sensible enough to stay out of the way though you never know with Paula. Finally Blake throws a metal vase into the mirror, a bizarre statement that he must have picked up from some music video or another, and runs out of the room. Then, and only then, does Simon let Randy go.
"What the hell, Cowell?" Randy says as they run across the ballroom to the door Blake had taken.
"It had to happen," Simon says, shrugging even as he jogs.
Ryan lets them go, lets the manager catch up to him, does the official tap dance that Simon detests, gets a flashlight. Gina is next to him by then, saying, "Oh my God, Mr. Seacrest, I didn't know," and he says, "I know," and they head outside for what Ryan secretly hopes will be a completely fruitless search.
It doesn't take the staff long to clean up the overturned tables and sweep up the broken glass. Ryan pitches in with the ladies to clean cake and punch off of new gowns and rented jackets with dark napkins dipped in cold club soda, while Randy and Simon have taken Maroulis off to who-knows-where. Ryan signals to Ace to get the band playing again, and the singer says can you hear them? they talk about us, telling lies, well, that's no surprise and Ryan can't decide if that was a supremely horrible or sublimely perfect choice on their part. There's more dancing, many slowly forgetting what's happened if only to preserve their prom-perfect romance moment. Ryan sees Paula light up when Randy asks her to dance, then watches Brandon and Ace move their dates around the room such that they're almost always in each other's sight, and wonders if it's on purpose or if they're just that connected. He wonders, too, if it really is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Then Simon comes in, and he decides that the choice is ridiculous. It's definitely better to just love.
They have to clear up the room that very night, because there's an overflow early-mother's day brunch in the room the next day. Simon and Randy have gone out with the police after arranging with the hotel for the damages. Ryan has no idea where the money will come from, as the deposit isn't going to cover a 10'x10' mirror, and he can't imagine that Lythgoe would bother. Ayla is outraged at the entire goings-on, but Ayla is always outraged about something, and it will give her a good story for her freshman year roommates, so Ryan doesn't worry about that. Ace seems a little pale, and Ryan makes a mental note to say something to him at some point in some way, because college isn't this town, and his life isn't this town, something that Brandon already knows—he has other obstacles—and Blake takes for granted. But for Ace and Chris, it's harder, in a way that Ryan understands.Simon turns back up about an hour later with Randy, sees that the room is pretty well clean; the kids are starting to drift off to whatever underground party they've gained access to. The three of them walk out, Ryan and Simon promising to come by for waffles the next day. In the hotel lot, Ryan is confused to see that his car is gone. "What—"
"I drove your car to the police station, and Randy came with me to drop it off at your house. I need a drive, and I may as well take you with me."
Ryan gets into the BMW, makes sure his seatbelt is secure, watches Simon mess with the radar detector. Simon pulls out of the lot, drives at the edge of the speed limit to the turn onto the highway, and past the speed trap just outside of town. Then he floors it, and Ryan's stomach comes up in his throat as Simon pushes the needle past 100mph. Simon is a ridiculously excellent driver; he likes going to European driving schools on his vacations, and Ryan sat in a similar BMW one summer as Simon played Pole Position on the Autobahn, so he isn't actually afraid, except for what this means about Simon's mood.
Simon turns around at the state line, and they drive back, stopping at the new Chik-Fil-A at the Exit 7 rest stop to get sandwiches and sweet tea. It's after 2am now, and Simon has finally lost the wired look he'd had earlier. He plays with a fry, looks around at the empty room and the absent staff, and then feeds it to Ryan.
"Home?" Ryan asks, and Simon nods.
As they walk out to the car he says, "I promise to drive more sanely on the way back."
"You can do whatever you want, darlin'," Ryan says. "But roll down a window, because it's getting stuffy."
"You're sure you don't mind messing up your hair?"
Ryan shrugs. "You're going to mess it up later anyway," he says. "And seriously, when we buy a new car it's going to have air conditioning." He flicks on the radio, where a deep voice is clearly very excited about GMAC financing for a new truck at "MaROUlis Motors!"
"Oh God," Simon said. "I'm glad we drive European cars."
A song starts, familiar piano chords, and Ryan sinks down into the seat.
Simon starts laughing, and turns up the radio: you walk right in the door, just like you did before, and wrap my heart around your little finger.
"Shut UP, Simon," Ryan says, and he can feel the flush in his cheeks.
Simon is singing along now, between chuckles: all you gotta do is smile that smile and there go all my defenses
"I never should have told you," Ryan mutters.
"Why not?" Simon asks. "It's very sweet, that it makes you think of me."
"Made," Ryan says.
"Oh, favorite line," he says, and sings along: looking better than a body has a right to
"If you don't stop I'll never give you a blow job again," Ryan says. But it's hopeless, and the song's ending anyway. Ryan decides since it got Simon back to himself a bit, maybe it's worth a little pride lost.
At home, Ryan checks the messages, but there's only Randy, saying that Blake has been found by his cousin, is home safe, and Mrs. Lewis refuses to let the cops into her house. Simon, who's collapsed onto the couch, says, "Good for her."
"Yeah," Ryan says, slipping off his tasseled evening loafers. He and Simon both own their tuxes, of course, classic lines that fit like a glove, and even sprawled out, one leg on the coffee table, tie loosened, Simon's sexier than anything Ryan has ever seen.
Simon rubs a hand over his eyes. "Well, that was horrid."
"Like you said, it had to happen," Ryan says. He pulls the ottoman over near the couch and sits down, putting a hand on Simon's thigh.
"But the high melodrama, surely we might have avoided that."
Ryan says nothing, just watches.
Simon sighs, and looks at Ryan. "Are we abandoning these people?"
"No," Ryan says. "I thought about that, before I agreed to go with you, and no. We're showing them that there's something else. We're showing them the way out, that they don't have to come back to this town if they don't want to, that there's more out there. Someone showed me that, once, and I got out."
Simon nods. "God, I'm so tired."
"C'mon darlin'," Ryan says, standing and extending his hand. "Let's go upstairs."
Simon rises, and Ryan pulls him close, letting Simon put his full weight on him. They stand clinging to each other until finally they climb the stairs, Simon's head still on Ryan's shoulder. In the bedroom, Ryan reminds Simon that as much as he wants to take care of everyone around him, he needs taking care of, too, and Ryan obliges.
10: June 1985
Notes:
Nowadays, neither Simon nor Ryan would wear a double-breasted suit; they're far too short. But in the 80s everyone was wearing them, and the tuxes were very traditional. After the anything-goes 70s, the 80s were all about a return to classic "glamour" for formal wear, which you could see in the overblown girl's dresses that had more to do with wedding dresses than cocktail dresses.
Pole Position was a most excellent early Atari car race game and the short hand among my friends for driving as fast as possible and passing everyone you come up behind.
And I just want to note that "Here You Come Again" made me think of Simon long before Dolly Parton week, but that you all probably recognized the song never hurts!
