Three Being Human Ficlets
Title: And Now It’s Light
Pairing: George/Mitchell
Rating: PG
Words: 405
Disclaimer: Not my boys.
Summary: Mitchell wants to see. He thinks, in a sudden fit of entitlement, that he’s earned the right. Pre-series.
A/N: Written for toestastegood at the five acts meme.
The first time Mitchell sees the marks he flinches.
He’s seen worse, done worse, but it’s different when it’s George, different when he knows the cost.
George is standing in front of the mirror in a dingy hotel room bath, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, shirt folded neatly on the edge of the sink, far from the water. He reaches for it the second Mitchell walks into the room.
“Don’t be shy, George,” Mitchell says. He tries for mischief, tries to pretend his eyes aren’t lingering on the deep gashes that will never really heal.
“We can’t all be exhibitionists,” George says, his eyes flickering to Mitchell’s perpetually bare chest. He spits into the sink and turns away from Mitchell to dry his hands before shrugging into his shirt. Mitchell catches George’s hand as he reaches for the first button.
“Mitchell.”
There’s warning in his voice, but Mitchell wants to see. He thinks, in a sudden fit of entitlement, that he’s earned the right. He pushes the soft cotton of the shirt away from George’s shoulder and ignores the way his friend tenses as he covers the raised flesh with his cool hand.
“You know this is nothing to be ashamed of.”
George looks away, trains his gaze on the horrid pink flowers on the wallpaper instead.
“I’m not ashamed.”
“Is that why you walk around buttoned up like a bloody schoolmarm?”
Mitchell grins when George begins sputtering indignantly.
“I don’t---I’m just a bit shy and you, you’re a vampire, Mitchell. Maybe I’m just trying to keep myself from looking too appetizing. I never know when you can’t be bothered to order take away.”
“You think I’m going to bite you?”
Mitchell can’t hide his bemusement. George shrugs helplessly, before ducking his head.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
He moves forward, forcing George to take a step back, until he’s pressed against the hideous pink atrocities decorating the wall. Mitchell can hear the steady thrum of George’s heart, the sudden rush of blood pumping faster. He ignores it, forces the sound to the back of his mind as he leans in and lets his lips brush softly against the mark.
“Let’s leave off a few buttons today, yeah?”
George nods almost shyly as Mitchell pulls away, his fingers absently lingering on the place where Mitchell had left his own mark, far less visible, but no less permanent.
“I suppose I could do that.”
***
Title: Damon Salvatore Never Has These Problems
Pairing: George/Annie
Rating: PG-13
Words: 738
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He said Annie. He should have known that’d only lead to trouble.
A/N: Written for aurilly at the five acts meme.
“So you told her,I was your girlfriend?”
George shrugs noncommittally and scooches further down on the couch in an ill-fated attempt to sink right through the cushions. Annie’s eyeing him in a way that both suggests that she knows exactly what he’s trying to do and that she could in fact actually do it if she felt like it.
“I had to say something! You didn’t see her Annie. She was terrifying…her jumper was made entirely of leather. I…I would have no idea what to do with that.”
Annie snorts and blinks once flipping the channel away from the cooking show George had been trying to enjoy before she flounced downstairs and began interrogating him about his night out, to some horrid soap about vampires. George raises an arm in protest, too indignant to actually form words.
“Oh relax, I’ll go back. I only like the bits with Damon. He’s quite the charmer.”
“Annie! We live with an actual vampire. You realize that, yes?”
She shakes her head causing her dark curls to brush across George’s cheek. The sensation makes George shiver.
“That’s just Mitchell. And anyway, you’re changing the subject.”
“Well you changed the channel.”
“Cry-baby,” Annie mutters before blinking it back to Gordon Ramsey.
“Now, back to you and this mystery girl. Most men would kill for a girl wearing a bit of leather.”
“A bit, yes. She was wearing an entire jumper of leather. From top to bottom and she was very…forceful,” George says in a hushed voice.
Annie immediately dissolves into giggles. She’s laughing so hard she tumbles into him and he gets a face full of icy cold, albeit gorgeous ghost hair. George waits for her to straighten up, but instead she sprawls across his lap and stares up at him.
“George you’re a werewolf for Pete’s sake. She should probably be afraid of you.”
George tries to focus on what Annie’s saying instead of on the new problem she’s created of where he should put his hands. He tries to stretch one arm across the back of the couch casually like Mitchell does, but he’s immediately aware that he looks like a twat. Instead he settles for pressing them stiffly to his sides. Annie smirks at him from his lap and he thinks she should be glad he’s too gentlemanly to dump her on the floor.
“I’m only a werewolf one night a month. She owns that jumper every day.”
He waits for another round of giggles, but instead Annie pushes herself off his lap. He would be grateful, but now her face is suddenly alarmingly close to his. George is beginning to feel like he’s OD-ing on awkward lady situations tonight.
“Why did you say my name?”
Immediately, George feels his face growing warm.
“Because…you’re a girl. And I live…with you. Yes. That’s it. I live with you, I see you everyday, so obviously when I need a name for my fake girlfriend “Annie” is the first one that pops into my head,” George stutters.
Gordon Ramsay drops a pan on the screen and lets loose an impressive string of obscenities that George hopes rather furtively will draw Annie’s attention away from him. No such luck.
“You see lots of girls everyday. Many of them not dead. The lunch lady for example. I’ve heard you and Mitchell talking about her impressive---”
“Hey!”
“Chest,” Annie finishes anyway. “And there’s Nina who you actually dated. But you said, Annie.”
She leans even closer and George feels goose bumps rising on his arms. He’s not sure if it’s a side effect of the whole Annie being a ghost thing or the Annie being beautiful thing. All he knows for sure is that he can’t stop staring at her lips.
“I said Annie,” he agrees.
She kisses him and it makes him cold and warm all at once. His fingers tangle in her impossible curls and she moves back onto his lap. He doesn’t worry about what he should do with his hands this time.
He’s vaguely aware of the sound of the television flipping back to that bloody awful soap with the very pretty vampire who would probably know exactly what to do with both a girl who wore too much leather and a ghost in his lap.
“Cheater,” he murmurs.
Annie grins and nips playfully at his bottom lip.
“I used to own leather trousers, you know.”
Somehow George isn’t at all surprised.
***
Title: The Dangers (And Benefits) of Smoking in Bed
Pairing: George/Annie/Mitchell
Rating: R (sex)
Words: 776
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: She’s had just about enough of this. They’re ruining the moment. And it was a very good moment.
A/N: Written for bittersweet325 at the five acts meme.
The silence between them is broken by the sudden click of Mitchell’s cigarette lighter. He takes one long draw off his cigarette before George starts sputtering irritably.
“Do you have to do that now?”
Annie rolls her eyes and wiggles further down in the bed. To think she had been worried about the awkwardness of winding up in bed with her two best friends, not to mention flatmates. She should have known the boys would bounce right back to being the boys.
“I always have a smoke after a good shag, it’s tradition. And that was a damn good shag,” Mitchell says. He flashes a wicked grin in Annie’s direction and she fights back the urge to giggle. She’s an adult and a ghost, but Mitchell has a way of making her feel like she’s still a bloody adolescent at a Westlife concert.
“I used to smoke after sex. I thought it was kind of dirty…good dirty that is, bed head and cigarette smoke…I ended up puking in the toilet a few times, mind you, but it was fun,” Annie says.
Mitchell chuckles and she can feel, actually feel, the vibration against her side. It’s intoxicating. George is staring at them both as if they’ve escaped from an asylum.
“Yes, Annie, there’s nothing sexier than lung cancer. Or phlegm. Nothing turns me on quite like listening to someone hacking up a big, disgusting wad---”
“George!”
They both flash George a disgusted look and he glares back at them triumphantly.
“I rest my case.”
“You’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t get lung cancer, I’m already dead.”
“Yes, but I’m not. Second hand smoke is just as dangerous, there are adverts Mitchell.”
Annie groans. She’s had just about enough of this. They’re ruining the moment. And it was a very good moment. She slides her hand up George’s thigh and wraps it around his cock, watching with satisfaction as his mouth stops moving.
“Annie!” he screeches.
She winks and lets go.
“I just wanted to get your attention, tiger. This is a very pivotal moment between the three of us, in case you hadn’t noticed, and you were beginning to sound like my Gran.”
The bed shifts as Mitchell turns to face her and George. His arm is draped across her waist, her naked waist, and it God does it ever feel brilliant to be able to use the word naked about herself again. He nods at George who does the same and she can feel their fingers meet in the middle, right over her belly button. It’s warm and safe, and private, like the rest of the world can’t touch them (finally.)
“You’re right Annie; we’re sorry, aren't we, George?”
George nuzzles his nose against her neck.
“Very, very sorry.”
“It’s alright. It’s just this is kind of big for me. I lost my ghost virginity, didn’t I?”
“I don’t think that’s---”
Mitchell shakes his head sharply, cutting George off midsentence.
“And was it what you were expecting?” Mitchell asks instead.
Annie kisses him and she can almost taste the tobacco on his breath.
“Better.”
“Is that just for Mitchell or…”
Annie laughs and kisses George too.
“For the both of you, stupid.”
He grins his wide, wonderful George grin and Annie gets an idea. She presses closer to George and whispers something to him that makes the tips of his ears turn pink.
“Do I have to?” he whines.
“If you want the other thing.”
He sighs and takes Mitchell’s cigarette from his fingers without asking. Mitchell and Annie watch as George takes a long draw and immediately begins coughing. He looks a bit green as he passes it back.
“Happy now?”
Annie nods.
“Good because I think I’m going to be sick.”
He scrambles out of the bed quickly, leaving Annie and Mitchell alone. Mitchell shakes his head in confusion.
“Why did you make him do that?”
“Because I can’t have my sexy post-shag smoke anymore, so I wanted him to do it for me,” she says. “I’ll make it up to him when he’s feeling better.”
“You are evil, Annie,” Mitchell murmurs before slipping his tongue past her lips. She giggles and pulls back.
“Am not.”
“Hey!”
They turn to find George, still pale, but not so pale he can’t look offended that they’ve started without him, standing in the doorway. Annie laughs and tosses back the covers to welcome him in.
“I suppose you’re here to collect your reward?”
George grins as he crawls in beside her.
“I’ll take it in small bills, if you don’t mind,” George jokes as Annie begins happily kissing her way down his chest.
Pairing: George/Mitchell
Rating: PG
Words: 405
Disclaimer: Not my boys.
Summary: Mitchell wants to see. He thinks, in a sudden fit of entitlement, that he’s earned the right. Pre-series.
A/N: Written for toestastegood at the five acts meme.
The first time Mitchell sees the marks he flinches.
He’s seen worse, done worse, but it’s different when it’s George, different when he knows the cost.
George is standing in front of the mirror in a dingy hotel room bath, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, shirt folded neatly on the edge of the sink, far from the water. He reaches for it the second Mitchell walks into the room.
“Don’t be shy, George,” Mitchell says. He tries for mischief, tries to pretend his eyes aren’t lingering on the deep gashes that will never really heal.
“We can’t all be exhibitionists,” George says, his eyes flickering to Mitchell’s perpetually bare chest. He spits into the sink and turns away from Mitchell to dry his hands before shrugging into his shirt. Mitchell catches George’s hand as he reaches for the first button.
“Mitchell.”
There’s warning in his voice, but Mitchell wants to see. He thinks, in a sudden fit of entitlement, that he’s earned the right. He pushes the soft cotton of the shirt away from George’s shoulder and ignores the way his friend tenses as he covers the raised flesh with his cool hand.
“You know this is nothing to be ashamed of.”
George looks away, trains his gaze on the horrid pink flowers on the wallpaper instead.
“I’m not ashamed.”
“Is that why you walk around buttoned up like a bloody schoolmarm?”
Mitchell grins when George begins sputtering indignantly.
“I don’t---I’m just a bit shy and you, you’re a vampire, Mitchell. Maybe I’m just trying to keep myself from looking too appetizing. I never know when you can’t be bothered to order take away.”
“You think I’m going to bite you?”
Mitchell can’t hide his bemusement. George shrugs helplessly, before ducking his head.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
He moves forward, forcing George to take a step back, until he’s pressed against the hideous pink atrocities decorating the wall. Mitchell can hear the steady thrum of George’s heart, the sudden rush of blood pumping faster. He ignores it, forces the sound to the back of his mind as he leans in and lets his lips brush softly against the mark.
“Let’s leave off a few buttons today, yeah?”
George nods almost shyly as Mitchell pulls away, his fingers absently lingering on the place where Mitchell had left his own mark, far less visible, but no less permanent.
“I suppose I could do that.”
***
Title: Damon Salvatore Never Has These Problems
Pairing: George/Annie
Rating: PG-13
Words: 738
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He said Annie. He should have known that’d only lead to trouble.
A/N: Written for aurilly at the five acts meme.
“So you told her,I was your girlfriend?”
George shrugs noncommittally and scooches further down on the couch in an ill-fated attempt to sink right through the cushions. Annie’s eyeing him in a way that both suggests that she knows exactly what he’s trying to do and that she could in fact actually do it if she felt like it.
“I had to say something! You didn’t see her Annie. She was terrifying…her jumper was made entirely of leather. I…I would have no idea what to do with that.”
Annie snorts and blinks once flipping the channel away from the cooking show George had been trying to enjoy before she flounced downstairs and began interrogating him about his night out, to some horrid soap about vampires. George raises an arm in protest, too indignant to actually form words.
“Oh relax, I’ll go back. I only like the bits with Damon. He’s quite the charmer.”
“Annie! We live with an actual vampire. You realize that, yes?”
She shakes her head causing her dark curls to brush across George’s cheek. The sensation makes George shiver.
“That’s just Mitchell. And anyway, you’re changing the subject.”
“Well you changed the channel.”
“Cry-baby,” Annie mutters before blinking it back to Gordon Ramsey.
“Now, back to you and this mystery girl. Most men would kill for a girl wearing a bit of leather.”
“A bit, yes. She was wearing an entire jumper of leather. From top to bottom and she was very…forceful,” George says in a hushed voice.
Annie immediately dissolves into giggles. She’s laughing so hard she tumbles into him and he gets a face full of icy cold, albeit gorgeous ghost hair. George waits for her to straighten up, but instead she sprawls across his lap and stares up at him.
“George you’re a werewolf for Pete’s sake. She should probably be afraid of you.”
George tries to focus on what Annie’s saying instead of on the new problem she’s created of where he should put his hands. He tries to stretch one arm across the back of the couch casually like Mitchell does, but he’s immediately aware that he looks like a twat. Instead he settles for pressing them stiffly to his sides. Annie smirks at him from his lap and he thinks she should be glad he’s too gentlemanly to dump her on the floor.
“I’m only a werewolf one night a month. She owns that jumper every day.”
He waits for another round of giggles, but instead Annie pushes herself off his lap. He would be grateful, but now her face is suddenly alarmingly close to his. George is beginning to feel like he’s OD-ing on awkward lady situations tonight.
“Why did you say my name?”
Immediately, George feels his face growing warm.
“Because…you’re a girl. And I live…with you. Yes. That’s it. I live with you, I see you everyday, so obviously when I need a name for my fake girlfriend “Annie” is the first one that pops into my head,” George stutters.
Gordon Ramsay drops a pan on the screen and lets loose an impressive string of obscenities that George hopes rather furtively will draw Annie’s attention away from him. No such luck.
“You see lots of girls everyday. Many of them not dead. The lunch lady for example. I’ve heard you and Mitchell talking about her impressive---”
“Hey!”
“Chest,” Annie finishes anyway. “And there’s Nina who you actually dated. But you said, Annie.”
She leans even closer and George feels goose bumps rising on his arms. He’s not sure if it’s a side effect of the whole Annie being a ghost thing or the Annie being beautiful thing. All he knows for sure is that he can’t stop staring at her lips.
“I said Annie,” he agrees.
She kisses him and it makes him cold and warm all at once. His fingers tangle in her impossible curls and she moves back onto his lap. He doesn’t worry about what he should do with his hands this time.
He’s vaguely aware of the sound of the television flipping back to that bloody awful soap with the very pretty vampire who would probably know exactly what to do with both a girl who wore too much leather and a ghost in his lap.
“Cheater,” he murmurs.
Annie grins and nips playfully at his bottom lip.
“I used to own leather trousers, you know.”
Somehow George isn’t at all surprised.
***
Title: The Dangers (And Benefits) of Smoking in Bed
Pairing: George/Annie/Mitchell
Rating: R (sex)
Words: 776
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: She’s had just about enough of this. They’re ruining the moment. And it was a very good moment.
A/N: Written for bittersweet325 at the five acts meme.
The silence between them is broken by the sudden click of Mitchell’s cigarette lighter. He takes one long draw off his cigarette before George starts sputtering irritably.
“Do you have to do that now?”
Annie rolls her eyes and wiggles further down in the bed. To think she had been worried about the awkwardness of winding up in bed with her two best friends, not to mention flatmates. She should have known the boys would bounce right back to being the boys.
“I always have a smoke after a good shag, it’s tradition. And that was a damn good shag,” Mitchell says. He flashes a wicked grin in Annie’s direction and she fights back the urge to giggle. She’s an adult and a ghost, but Mitchell has a way of making her feel like she’s still a bloody adolescent at a Westlife concert.
“I used to smoke after sex. I thought it was kind of dirty…good dirty that is, bed head and cigarette smoke…I ended up puking in the toilet a few times, mind you, but it was fun,” Annie says.
Mitchell chuckles and she can feel, actually feel, the vibration against her side. It’s intoxicating. George is staring at them both as if they’ve escaped from an asylum.
“Yes, Annie, there’s nothing sexier than lung cancer. Or phlegm. Nothing turns me on quite like listening to someone hacking up a big, disgusting wad---”
“George!”
They both flash George a disgusted look and he glares back at them triumphantly.
“I rest my case.”
“You’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t get lung cancer, I’m already dead.”
“Yes, but I’m not. Second hand smoke is just as dangerous, there are adverts Mitchell.”
Annie groans. She’s had just about enough of this. They’re ruining the moment. And it was a very good moment. She slides her hand up George’s thigh and wraps it around his cock, watching with satisfaction as his mouth stops moving.
“Annie!” he screeches.
She winks and lets go.
“I just wanted to get your attention, tiger. This is a very pivotal moment between the three of us, in case you hadn’t noticed, and you were beginning to sound like my Gran.”
The bed shifts as Mitchell turns to face her and George. His arm is draped across her waist, her naked waist, and it God does it ever feel brilliant to be able to use the word naked about herself again. He nods at George who does the same and she can feel their fingers meet in the middle, right over her belly button. It’s warm and safe, and private, like the rest of the world can’t touch them (finally.)
“You’re right Annie; we’re sorry, aren't we, George?”
George nuzzles his nose against her neck.
“Very, very sorry.”
“It’s alright. It’s just this is kind of big for me. I lost my ghost virginity, didn’t I?”
“I don’t think that’s---”
Mitchell shakes his head sharply, cutting George off midsentence.
“And was it what you were expecting?” Mitchell asks instead.
Annie kisses him and she can almost taste the tobacco on his breath.
“Better.”
“Is that just for Mitchell or…”
Annie laughs and kisses George too.
“For the both of you, stupid.”
He grins his wide, wonderful George grin and Annie gets an idea. She presses closer to George and whispers something to him that makes the tips of his ears turn pink.
“Do I have to?” he whines.
“If you want the other thing.”
He sighs and takes Mitchell’s cigarette from his fingers without asking. Mitchell and Annie watch as George takes a long draw and immediately begins coughing. He looks a bit green as he passes it back.
“Happy now?”
Annie nods.
“Good because I think I’m going to be sick.”
He scrambles out of the bed quickly, leaving Annie and Mitchell alone. Mitchell shakes his head in confusion.
“Why did you make him do that?”
“Because I can’t have my sexy post-shag smoke anymore, so I wanted him to do it for me,” she says. “I’ll make it up to him when he’s feeling better.”
“You are evil, Annie,” Mitchell murmurs before slipping his tongue past her lips. She giggles and pulls back.
“Am not.”
“Hey!”
They turn to find George, still pale, but not so pale he can’t look offended that they’ve started without him, standing in the doorway. Annie laughs and tosses back the covers to welcome him in.
“I suppose you’re here to collect your reward?”
George grins as he crawls in beside her.
“I’ll take it in small bills, if you don’t mind,” George jokes as Annie begins happily kissing her way down his chest.