"You look like hell, love... hard day at the office?"
He headed to the kitchen for a beer. Will was sprawled, scowling in his chair. He brought two beers back and placed one on the arm of Will's chair. As he sat down he felt the full force of Will's despair hit him. He nearly dropped the can on the floor, and sat with his mouth hanging open in shock.
You'd think, in three or four hours, that the panic of a situation would have worn off. But in the hours that Will had been forced to wait it had slowly mounted up until it was bearing down on him, grating on him. Until his stomach felt like so many knots, coiling and twisting.
George was usually a welcome sight through the door but not today. Today Will wanted him to go back to work so that the need to ask the questions, to know the answers, had worn off. He probably did look like hell, sitting there glaring at the wall. He'd focused on an exact spot, a little mark on the wallpaper, and he'd given it his full attention from the second he'd sat down. If looks could kill the wall would be burning down
( ... )
Will leant forward on the chair in what Molly had once called his 'Thinker' position. Elbows on legs, hands clasped and face tilted towards the floor while not totally blocking the other person out.
"Okay, they're two biggies so ... think about them before you answer, yeah?" Will glanced up at him, biting on his lips. "Don't sugar coat it for me, just give me it as you see it."
He took a deep breath and forced the question past his lips. Certain that first try George would be flabbergasted and probably not understand what he was really asking. "What do you think of when we're making love? Having sex?"
"Think about? I can't say as I'm thinking about anything... except you know.. what we're doin..." He grins a little, thinking about Will naked and panting. A lovely sight. "Might think about what you'd like next or what I'd like next... but I'm not thinking then, love... I'm too busy doin."
Will chewed on his bottom lip again, thoughtfully. So at least he hadn't squirmed and mumbled, sure proof he was thinking about things, people, other than Will. One step further then, "Who do you think about? I mean ... do you ever ... have fantasies - -" and he couldn't bring himself to say 'about other people.'
"Neither do I. Told you that. I'm too busy. I have my little thoughts when I'm at work, or out drinking or something. When I'm with you, I don't think about anything else. I've told you that... and you still don't believe me..."
Will paused. "I'm sorry if it sounded like I was accusing you there, I wasn't. Honestly. I'm wound up." He shifted a bit and then let a huge breath out of him. "Can I just ... stop this little heart to heart for a second?"
He moved from the chair to the couch and wrapped his arms around George, burying his face into George's neck. "I've missed you. And ... I'm glad you pushed me for therapy. Really. It's making me think."
George was shaking. He didn't know if Will was going to try and belt him or not. He relaxed a bit when he got a hug. "Will... you have to tell someone what's going on in your head, or you can't get any help. You'll feel better love...I'll feel better."
Will nodded but in the middle of it he felt the trembling. "George, baby ... are you all right?" no, of course he wasn't. He thought Will has accused him, or his thoughts, of being unfaithful. Again.
"You do know I love you, don't you? And that I'm proud of you. I don't think I tell you that enough. At all." Will stroked his fingers through George's hair, kissed it. "If you have something to ask ... ask me."
Truth time. Let it all go time. Admit you're wrong and lay yourself bare. Will felt his hands shaking. He just held tighter to George.
"I've no right to take things out on you because it's not your problem. It's mine." Will's head dipped again, glancing away. "Hannibal Lecter told me once that no one would ever be safe around me. I think I'm finally working out what he meant."
His fingers stroked over George's arm, tracing down until he could link his fingers with him. "I'm scared of losing you. All the time. And because I worry so much, I get tense and worked up and then I end up taking it out on you and pushing you farther away. I'm an ass, George. I know that. I'm trying but ... it's hard, is all."
He headed to the kitchen for a beer. Will was sprawled, scowling in his chair. He brought two beers back and placed one on the arm of Will's chair. As he sat down he felt the full force of Will's despair hit him. He nearly dropped the can on the floor, and sat with his mouth hanging open in shock.
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George was usually a welcome sight through the door but not today. Today Will wanted him to go back to work so that the need to ask the questions, to know the answers, had worn off. He probably did look like hell, sitting there glaring at the wall. He'd focused on an exact spot, a little mark on the wallpaper, and he'd given it his full attention from the second he'd sat down. If looks could kill the wall would be burning down ( ... )
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"Okay, they're two biggies so ... think about them before you answer, yeah?" Will glanced up at him, biting on his lips. "Don't sugar coat it for me, just give me it as you see it."
He took a deep breath and forced the question past his lips. Certain that first try George would be flabbergasted and probably not understand what he was really asking. "What do you think of when we're making love? Having sex?"
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"Sure... Don't you think about things you can't have?"
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"No," and he couldn't quite keep his voice steady. "Not when we're in bed I don't. Not when I'm with you."
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He moved from the chair to the couch and wrapped his arms around George, burying his face into George's neck. "I've missed you. And ... I'm glad you pushed me for therapy. Really. It's making me think."
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"Will... you have to tell someone what's going on in your head, or you can't get any help. You'll feel better love...I'll feel better."
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"You do know I love you, don't you? And that I'm proud of you. I don't think I tell you that enough. At all." Will stroked his fingers through George's hair, kissed it. "If you have something to ask ... ask me."
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"I've no right to take things out on you because it's not your problem. It's mine." Will's head dipped again, glancing away. "Hannibal Lecter told me once that no one would ever be safe around me. I think I'm finally working out what he meant."
His fingers stroked over George's arm, tracing down until he could link his fingers with him. "I'm scared of losing you. All the time. And because I worry so much, I get tense and worked up and then I end up taking it out on you and pushing you farther away. I'm an ass, George. I know that. I'm trying but ... it's hard, is all."
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