vanillalime

Title: A Merry Seacrestmas 2010
Pairing: Ryan Seacrest/Simon Cowell
Rating: PG
Summary: The story behind last year's sighting of Simon at a hotel in Ryan's hometown on Christmas Eve (Ryan's birthday).
Length: 1800 words
Notes: My intention was to write something in part to pay homage to the Rymon community. There are several inside references to real-life Rymon events, rumors, and fanfic (written by others) that the fandom discussed, joked, and speculated about. Good times!

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Simon was sprawled out on the couch in the sitting room, watching TV, remote in hand. He heard Ryan swipe his keycard, a sound that he had been listening for subconsciously all evening. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Ryan bounced into the hotel suite, removed his coat, and settled down next to him.

"What are you watching?" Ryan asked.

"Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol," Simon replied. "You've come at the perfect time. They just finished that horrid 'Razzleberry Dressing' song. It always reminds me of annoying 10-year-olds trying to sing songs from Annie."

"Is this what you've been doing all day? Watching Christmas cartoon specials on TV?" Ryan asked.

"No," said Simon defensively. "Earlier, I was watching a nature special about marine biology. Dolphins are rather fascinating creatures, did you know that?"

Ryan looked at him. He quietly said, "You could have come with me. You know that."

"I know." Simon switched off the TV, and turned to face Ryan. "So, how were things?"

Ryan's face brightened. "Great! Nana is doing well. She is really looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow."

Simon smiled.

Ryan continued, "She asked why I didn't have a better tan after spending a week in Barbados. I told her it was because I use lots of sun screen."

Simon laughed. "Well, better to tell her that, than the truth. Did all your gifts arrive safe and sound?"

"Yes, I'm all set. Meredith wrapped them for me this afternoon."

"That was nice of her." Simon already knew that Ryan and his sister had spent part of the day wrapping presents; he had checked Ryan's Twitter page a few times while he was gone and had seen the pictures that Ryan had sent out. But he would rather die a slow, painful death than let Ryan know that. Simon continued, "I've always thought that she's a really nice kid. Tell me, uh... is she helping out with dinner tomorrow?"

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "That Thanksgiving dinner was over four years ago," he said.

"Yes, and I'm still not sure if my taste buds ever completely recovered," Simon smirked.

"It wasn't really her fault! Mixing up sugar and salt can be easy to do when you're busy, rushing around, and are distracted by something," Ryan huffed. "I don't know how many times I've almost mixed up baking soda and baking powder..."

"Oh, I know," Simon interrupted. "Me, too."

Ryan looked at him and laughed. "Okay, no more cooking talk. So, where's my birthday present?"

"What are you talking about? I gave you a present this morning."

Now Ryan smirked. "I think that was a gift for yourself as much as it was for me," he said.

Simon cocked his eyebrow. "I was referring to the coffee from Starbucks that I hand-delivered to you this morning."

"Oh. Right." Ryan paused. "You know, I really appreciated that. But I'm not sure going out in public like that was the smartest thing to do. You don't know how many people might have seen you."

Simon rolled his eyes. "You are being paranoid," he countered. "What do you think might happen? Someone will see me and tweet about it? Post it on Faceplace?"

"It's FaceBOOK. And, yes, that is exactly what I'm worried about. You are supposed to be in Barbados with Sinitta and Mezhgan. Not in a hotel in downtown Atlanta on Christmas Eve." Ryan paused, and lowered his voice. "You know better than I do what FOX expects, considering your actions this year."

Simon scowled. "Thanks for reminding me," he said sarcastically. "Well, it's not like anyone took a picture of me. If someone does say something, they won't have any proof. I'm sure the very few people who might care will assume it was simply a case of mistaken identity."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right." Simon stretched. "So, let's move on to better things. To be honest, I did get you some other presents. Would you like to open them now?"

Ryan's face brightened again. "Absolutely," he responded.

"Stay here," Simon instructed. He left the room, and retreated to the bedroom. His excitement began to build. In actuality, part of his day had been spent retrieving one of Ryan's gifts, examining it and verifying that it had arrived safely in Atlanta without any damage from its origin in France. He had, however, left the gift-wrapping to the professionals, after deliberately selecting the frilliest bows and ribbons they had.

Simon walked back into the sitting room carrying three wrapped packages, giggling slightly to himself. Two of the packages were small and oddly shaped, while the third was larger, flat and rectangular. He carefully set them down in front of Ryan.

"This one first," Simon said, as he tossed Ryan one of the small packages.

Ryan tore off the paper to reveal a bag of candy. "Old-Fashioned Horehound Hard Candy," he read. He looked questioningly at Simon.

"I have no idea what it is, but I saw the word 'Horehound' and thought of you," Simon said. He began to giggle out loud. "Get it? 'Horehound?'" His giggles increased.

"Ah, that explains it. Sometimes I forget that you have the mentality of a 12-year-old." Ryan looked back at the bag and continued to read. "Horehound is soothing to the throat and fat-free." With that, Simon completely lost it, and fell back on the couch, laughing uncontrollably.

"It's perfect for you!" Simon exclaimed when he finally caught his breath. "Besides, I've seen what you can do with a candy cane."

"Thank you. Thank you so much," Ryan said sarcastically. He was doing his best to appear exasperated, but Simon was well aware of the fact that the sight of Simon enjoying himself so much at his expense undeniably made Ryan happy for reasons he was never able to understand.

"You're welcome. Now, this one," giggled Simon as he handed Ryan the second of the smaller gifts.

Ryan dutifully switched gears. "I can't wait to see what's inside this one!" he said with mock enthusiasm. "And... it's... a... stapler! A shiny, red stapler!" Again, he looked questioningly at Simon.

Simon's smile stretched from ear to ear. "I thought you could put it on your desk in your office at work. Something you'll see on a daily basis to remind you of me while I'm back home." He laughed, "Something that you can give a good pounding when you're feeling frustrated."

Ryan grinned. He cocked his eyebrow, switched to his radio-voice, and quietly said, "Oh, baby, I always think of you when I feel like giving someone a good pounding."

Simon pretended to be shocked. "How exactly should I take that?" he asked.

"I'm just following your lead," Ryan innocently protested.

"Okay. Perhaps we're both 12-year-olds at heart," Simon declared. "Let's get to the last present." He slowly, carefully picked up the final present and laid it down across Ryan's lap. Simon's heart began to race, but he tried to be as nonchalant as possible.

Ryan, intuitively acting as if this final present was going to be a little different than the previous two, gently removed the paper, not really focusing on the gift until it was completely unwrapped. He gasped.

"Oh my. This is beautiful!" he exclaimed. He tilted his head. His eyes skimmed back and forth as he took it all in. "It looks like..." His voice faded, and he stopped. "Oh. Oh my God," he whispered. His jaw dropped open. "Is this... Is this... an original?" he stammered.

"Well, it certainly isn't a paint-by-the-numbers," Simon quietly responded, looking directly at Ryan's face.

Ryan sat there, staring at the painting, his mouth wide open, not saying anything. An incredible feeling came over Simon. It was quite an accomplishment... it was almost impossible to leave Ryan speechless, about anything, at any time. He knew how Ryan felt without him saying a word, even without seeing the tears that began to glisten in Ryan's eyes.

Simon leaned in closer to Ryan to take a better look at the painting himself. "I took a survey of several elderly grandmothers from Oklahoma," he said. "They all seemed to love it, so I figured you would, too." Ryan still didn't say anything. "I thought it would look nice hanging in your study," Simon added. Ryan finally turned to face him. "Perhaps above your fireplace," Simon said, as an afterthought.

Ryan gently slid the painting off his lap, and fell into Simon's arms. They hugged for a long moment. "Thank you," Ryan finally whispered into Simon's ear. Simon tried to respond with "Happy Birthday," but he found to his surprise that the words were caught in his throat. So he gently grazed Ryan's cheek with his lips, hugged him a little harder, and kept his eyes shut until his own tears had passed.

******

Later, Simon lay in bed, reading over some paperwork, waiting for Ryan to finish his nightly beauty routine. Finally, Ryan slid into bed beside him. Simon silently took note of the penguin pajama bottoms and smiled.

"Hey, Merry Christmas!" Ryan said.

Simon slipped off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and looked at the clock. It was just after midnight. "You know, I have no idea what time zone I'm in right now," he said. "I'm relying on you to keep me on schedule before I leave for Barbados again."

"Well, Santa won't come if there's any birthday sex, so we better get right to sleep," Ryan replied.

"What?!"

"Oh, um, never mind," Ryan tried to back-pedal. "I'm really tired."

Simon stared at him. He figured this was one of those times when it was better not to ask questions. What a strange boy he had fallen in love with.

"Thanks again for the presents," said Ryan, changing subjects. "I can't wait to put the stapler on my desk."

Simon laughed, then gradually grew contemplative. "You know that a lot of things are going to be different next year," he quietly said.

Ryan sighed, "Yes, I know. I'm not happy about it, but I've accepted it." He paused for a moment, then added, "It's the quality, not the quantity, right?"

Simon looked at him. He hesitated, but then said, "Whatever happens, my feelings about you won't change. You understand that, don't you?"

Ryan wrapped an arm around Simon's waist and laid his head down on Simon's chest. In his best Whitney Houston voice, he started singing, "I... will always... love yooouuu... "

"Oh God! Good Night!" Simon exclaimed.

Ryan looked up into Simon's face and smiled. Simon gazed into those green eyes, smiled back, and leaned in for a long kiss. Then he turned off the lamp and had a very Merry Christmas.