(no subject)
For my 50_smutlets claim, that belongs in my Within You, Without You universe.
Title: The Glass Onion
Prompt: Fur
Pairing: George/Lee
Word Count: 1094
Rating: R
A/N: I am apparently unable to write a ‘smutlet’ to save my life.
My Table
~^~
20. Fur
Lunch dates had become a new favorite. George’s body had grown accustomed to a mid-day climax just as his belly had grown accustomed to a mid-day feeding.
Wheezes had just had a delivery of restricted items that required a declaration form to be turned in to the Magical Customs Council where Lee worked. George happily volunteered to make the walk down Diagon Alley.
They were both back to working full time, which suited George fine, not only for the afternoon blowjobs, but because the sooner Lee had a generous pile of Galleons in his fault, the sooner he’d move out of his mum’s place.
As he approached the open door of Lee’s office he heard low voices inside.
“So, we’ll try to meet before this weekend then?” a familiar male voice said.
“I don’t really have a lot of time outside of work for this sort of thing, Billy. But I can try,” Lee answered.
Billy Sheers, George muttered to himself, remembering the man that Lee had dated and how overly friendly he’d been that day he visited Lee in St. Mungos.
“Cheers -and you aren’t going to mention any of this to George until we see how it works out for us, right?” Billy said in quiet, conspiratorial voice.
Lee seemed to waiver.
“I don’t like not being honest with him, but I guess there’s no need to tell him right away.”
They exchanged a quiet farewell that George couldn’t hear. Blood was rushing in his ears and a metallic tang on the tip of his tongue made him nauseous. He gripped his wand and quivered with a dozen hexes he’d be happy to see Billy afflicted with, but he managed to control his temper. He’d learned that more details come out if you don’t fly off the handle.
Just as he regained composure from his flash of jealousy, he found himself nose to nose with Billy in the hall.
“Whoa! Hi there, George. Eh, fancy seeing you here,” Billy said awkwardly, pushing his glasses back up his nose, shuffling passed George.
“Hello, Billy,” George said evenly, starring him in the eye. “Yeah, fancy that.”
“Right, heh, well, I’ll see you Saturday, yeah? Quidditch practice?”
George nodded and Billy walked off in a rush.
For all the anger he had just swallowed, it came back up double in heartache the second he stepped into Lee’s office. He looked up at George and smiled.
“Hey, mate,” he greeted, coming forward. He cast a quick look around him out the doorway before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “What are you doing here, Mr. Weasley?” he asked lightly. Playing off themselves as average businessmen had become a game for them. It wasn’t perfect, but they made their situation work.
George was having difficulty finding his voice.
“Shipment of Jobberknoll feathers … I brought the form.”
“All right.” Lee took the parchment. “I’ll file it for ya.”
“What was Billy doing here?” George tried to ask without showing emotion.
“Oh, you saw him? He had a meeting upstairs, dropped in after to tell me he’d be able to make practice on Saturday. I can’t wait to see you all up on brooms again. Lucky me, eh?” Lee smiled, not showing any trace of deception.
George winced and shook his head.
“You’re lying.”
Lee looked up sharply. “Excuse me?”
“I heard what he said, about you not telling me. … I heard.”
“You heard what?” Lee’s bemused and bewildered smile slowly faded as his hackle seemed to rise like the back fur of an anxious hound. “Georgie, I don’t appreciate the insinuation here.”
“You don’t appreciate? After everything we’ve - and with him - and now you?” George heard himself splutter like his mother.
Lee gathered himself stiffly, gripping the head of his cane taking a careful step closer. “You are out of line, Weasley. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.” His voice was cold and the sound chilled George because Lee didn’t often express his frustration at him, and never any real anger.
George took his defensiveness as guilt. He’d seen it in people before.
“I know what I heard,” he insisted. “There’s no way he was just here talking about a bloody Quidditch practice.”
“So that’s it, is it? You see an ex-boyfriend of mine and you immediately think I’m fucking around on you? You really think I’m just gonna bend over and let him bugger me right here in my office?”
“You’re acting a wee bit dodgy for an innocent person, if you ask me!”
“Well who asked you? Ya ruddy pillock!”
Their angry words had escalated no louder than a hissed argument under their breath, but it stung worse than yelling. Both fell silent for a moment and Lee scrubbed his face and composed himself.
“I don’t suppose you know that Billy is Muggleborn?”
“I don’t give a shit about that pranny’s heritage.”
The sound of a clearing voice interrupted them.
“Mr. Jordan?” Lee’s boss, a diminutive, polished looking wizard stood in the doorway.
“Hello, Mr. Cornforth. What can I do for you, sir?” Lee answered professionally with a smile. It reminded George of how often Lee had gotten them out of trouble with his smooth talk and charm.
The little man looked at Lee and George hesitantly. “I saw that Eeylops just a got delivery, do make sure they report it right away, would you please?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll follow up on it. You know Mr. George Weasley, of number ninety three?”
“Aye, Mr. Weasley.” The man nodded. George gave him a friendly nod and the man excused himself.
Another tense, quiet moment passed before Lee spoke again.
“I was going to explain that Billy wants to show me some Muggle exercises for my leg. He was afraid you’d scoff the idea because you come from an old wizarding family. I told him he was wrong, but I guess I should have known better, because you are an addlebrained little twat.”
“But I heard …” George began as his brain was still trying to back the magic carpet ride up to what Lee had just said.
Then it all sunk in quick enough. George didn’t often experience embarrassment and guilt but it felt real enough now.
“Just piss off and go home,” Lee snapped, sitting in his chair.
“… Which home?” he asked pitifully.
“Your home, George. Not my home,” Lee said, with an annoyed gesture. “If I’m the least bit interested in seeing you by the time I get off work, I’ll come over. Otherwise, leave me the feck alone.”
~^~
The next one will be up tomorrow
Title: The Glass Onion
Prompt: Fur
Pairing: George/Lee
Word Count: 1094
Rating: R
A/N: I am apparently unable to write a ‘smutlet’ to save my life.
My Table
~^~
20. Fur
Lunch dates had become a new favorite. George’s body had grown accustomed to a mid-day climax just as his belly had grown accustomed to a mid-day feeding.
Wheezes had just had a delivery of restricted items that required a declaration form to be turned in to the Magical Customs Council where Lee worked. George happily volunteered to make the walk down Diagon Alley.
They were both back to working full time, which suited George fine, not only for the afternoon blowjobs, but because the sooner Lee had a generous pile of Galleons in his fault, the sooner he’d move out of his mum’s place.
As he approached the open door of Lee’s office he heard low voices inside.
“So, we’ll try to meet before this weekend then?” a familiar male voice said.
“I don’t really have a lot of time outside of work for this sort of thing, Billy. But I can try,” Lee answered.
Billy Sheers, George muttered to himself, remembering the man that Lee had dated and how overly friendly he’d been that day he visited Lee in St. Mungos.
“Cheers -and you aren’t going to mention any of this to George until we see how it works out for us, right?” Billy said in quiet, conspiratorial voice.
Lee seemed to waiver.
“I don’t like not being honest with him, but I guess there’s no need to tell him right away.”
They exchanged a quiet farewell that George couldn’t hear. Blood was rushing in his ears and a metallic tang on the tip of his tongue made him nauseous. He gripped his wand and quivered with a dozen hexes he’d be happy to see Billy afflicted with, but he managed to control his temper. He’d learned that more details come out if you don’t fly off the handle.
Just as he regained composure from his flash of jealousy, he found himself nose to nose with Billy in the hall.
“Whoa! Hi there, George. Eh, fancy seeing you here,” Billy said awkwardly, pushing his glasses back up his nose, shuffling passed George.
“Hello, Billy,” George said evenly, starring him in the eye. “Yeah, fancy that.”
“Right, heh, well, I’ll see you Saturday, yeah? Quidditch practice?”
George nodded and Billy walked off in a rush.
For all the anger he had just swallowed, it came back up double in heartache the second he stepped into Lee’s office. He looked up at George and smiled.
“Hey, mate,” he greeted, coming forward. He cast a quick look around him out the doorway before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “What are you doing here, Mr. Weasley?” he asked lightly. Playing off themselves as average businessmen had become a game for them. It wasn’t perfect, but they made their situation work.
George was having difficulty finding his voice.
“Shipment of Jobberknoll feathers … I brought the form.”
“All right.” Lee took the parchment. “I’ll file it for ya.”
“What was Billy doing here?” George tried to ask without showing emotion.
“Oh, you saw him? He had a meeting upstairs, dropped in after to tell me he’d be able to make practice on Saturday. I can’t wait to see you all up on brooms again. Lucky me, eh?” Lee smiled, not showing any trace of deception.
George winced and shook his head.
“You’re lying.”
Lee looked up sharply. “Excuse me?”
“I heard what he said, about you not telling me. … I heard.”
“You heard what?” Lee’s bemused and bewildered smile slowly faded as his hackle seemed to rise like the back fur of an anxious hound. “Georgie, I don’t appreciate the insinuation here.”
“You don’t appreciate? After everything we’ve - and with him - and now you?” George heard himself splutter like his mother.
Lee gathered himself stiffly, gripping the head of his cane taking a careful step closer. “You are out of line, Weasley. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.” His voice was cold and the sound chilled George because Lee didn’t often express his frustration at him, and never any real anger.
George took his defensiveness as guilt. He’d seen it in people before.
“I know what I heard,” he insisted. “There’s no way he was just here talking about a bloody Quidditch practice.”
“So that’s it, is it? You see an ex-boyfriend of mine and you immediately think I’m fucking around on you? You really think I’m just gonna bend over and let him bugger me right here in my office?”
“You’re acting a wee bit dodgy for an innocent person, if you ask me!”
“Well who asked you? Ya ruddy pillock!”
Their angry words had escalated no louder than a hissed argument under their breath, but it stung worse than yelling. Both fell silent for a moment and Lee scrubbed his face and composed himself.
“I don’t suppose you know that Billy is Muggleborn?”
“I don’t give a shit about that pranny’s heritage.”
The sound of a clearing voice interrupted them.
“Mr. Jordan?” Lee’s boss, a diminutive, polished looking wizard stood in the doorway.
“Hello, Mr. Cornforth. What can I do for you, sir?” Lee answered professionally with a smile. It reminded George of how often Lee had gotten them out of trouble with his smooth talk and charm.
The little man looked at Lee and George hesitantly. “I saw that Eeylops just a got delivery, do make sure they report it right away, would you please?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll follow up on it. You know Mr. George Weasley, of number ninety three?”
“Aye, Mr. Weasley.” The man nodded. George gave him a friendly nod and the man excused himself.
Another tense, quiet moment passed before Lee spoke again.
“I was going to explain that Billy wants to show me some Muggle exercises for my leg. He was afraid you’d scoff the idea because you come from an old wizarding family. I told him he was wrong, but I guess I should have known better, because you are an addlebrained little twat.”
“But I heard …” George began as his brain was still trying to back the magic carpet ride up to what Lee had just said.
Then it all sunk in quick enough. George didn’t often experience embarrassment and guilt but it felt real enough now.
“Just piss off and go home,” Lee snapped, sitting in his chair.
“… Which home?” he asked pitifully.
“Your home, George. Not my home,” Lee said, with an annoyed gesture. “If I’m the least bit interested in seeing you by the time I get off work, I’ll come over. Otherwise, leave me the feck alone.”
~^~
The next one will be up tomorrow